


Ride (with) me

by Quicksilvermaid



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A bike called Ice, AU modern day, And also a smartarse, Angst, Arya is an excellent wingman, Arya will kick arse for Jon, Biker!Ayra, Biker!Jon, Blackwater Bay is a beach town, Blood Feud, Flirting, Friendship, Gang Wars, Hot Pie is still a baker, Jondry, Lots of sexual tension, M/M, Misunderstanding, Sexual Tension, bikie gangs, blood and death, mechanic!Gendry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/pseuds/Quicksilvermaid
Summary: Modern AU set in Westeros where Jon and Arya are members of Robb Stark's biker gang, the Direwolves.Jon lives for the road, Arya lives for fun and when the two of them get stuck in the middle of nowhere town of Blackwater Bay, it's the last place they want to be.Then they meet Gendry, with his easy friendship and his deep blue eyes, and for different reasons, both of them start to think Blackwater Bay might be worth a longer visit.But the conflict brewing with rival gang the Debt Collectors might tear everything apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea took my fancy ... will see where it goes :) Probably a little too much Sterek reading in my life, but I'm a sucker for a bad boy in leather ...
> 
> I don't know a heap about bikes or bikers so cut me some slack on any mistakes ...
> 
> On Tumblr as squirrel-and-me and would love a visit. 
> 
> Edit Apr 18. I *promise* I will finish this!!!!

He roared down the road, the wind buffeting him, his body thrilling at the sensation of freedom, almost of flight. He pushed the throttle harder, 1000 ccs of engine throbbing under him in response. He had no idea how fast he was going and he didn’t care – it could never be fast enough. It was just him and the bike and the road. And Ghost, perched up behind him, cradled in the half seat he'd had crafted for the pillion passenger, muzzle resting on his shoulder, eyes slitted against the wind.

They were out in the middle of who knew where – Jon barely listened whenever Robb said where they were headed next. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the road and the power of the beast between his legs. The landscape flashed past him, flat and barren, everything in vivid reds and oranges against the bright blue sky. His black leather jacket was undone at the neck and his v-neck t-shirt left his skin bare. The air flowed in over him, providing relief from the searing heat. It was hot here, wherever here was. 

He heard a faint sound over the rumble of his own bike and glanced back over his shoulder, aviators flashing in the sun. There was a spec in the distance, approaching fast. Jon grinned as the shape solidified into a hot red MTT Y2K Superbike - sleek and fast and powerful. The most dangerous machine money could buy. The red bike’s engine screamed as its slim, leather-clad owner pulled it up into a mono as she passed Jon, the mirrored visor of her red helmet reflecting his own face back at him as she turned to look at him.

Jon couldn’t see his sister’s face, but he knew without a doubt that Arya was sticking her tongue out at him. She might have just turned 21 but she was still such a child sometimes. He laughed out loud, the wind whipping his joy away, and poked his tongue back at her. Then he pushed down on the throttle again, swerving in at the red bike. Arya pulled her bike back down on to two wheels and leaned in, accelerating hard away from him. She flicked one hand up behind her back as she did so – very clearly giving him the finger. Jon laughed again, shaking his head. That girl was a menace. Ghost touched his nose against Jon’s neck, clearly in agreement.

They rode for another hour or so into the emptiness, Jon and Arya vying for the lead, swerving and playing and enjoying the freedom of the road and their machines. Eventually the land around them started to green and fences and trees became more common, then fields of wheat and animals grazing, putting their heads up in surprise as the roar of the bikes disturbed their peace. Jon saw signs marking the next town ahead: Bitterbridge. He pulled up slowly on to the verge of the road near the sign. 

He killed the engine and Ghost jumped out the leather half moon the kept him secure against Jon on the back of the bike and began sniffing around the sign, running a few metres away into the trees that stood beside the road. He cocked his leg on one and then kept sniffing, running from place to place. Jon smiled at the huge, shaggy white dog and kicked the foot stand out to lean his bike on it. He threw his leg over and stood, stretching against the shape he’d been bent into the last few hours. He took his helmet off - it was steely grey like his bike, and open faced. He set it on the seat and scrubbed a hand through his tanged black hair.

Down the road Arya suddenly noticed Jon wasn’t with her anymore and he heard the squeal of tyres as she ripped her bike around, laying it nearly flat in the sharpness of her turn. She gunned it hard and tore back down the road towards him, pulling up in a screech of tyres and the smell of burning rubber. She kicked her stand down and jumped off her bike, pulling her glossy helmet off and shaking her shoulder-length black hair free. She grinned across at him impishly, the exhilaration of the ride still glowing in her face and Jon couldn’t help but grin back.

Jon pulled a small metal flask from the inside pocket of his leather jacket and took a swig, the burn of the whisky barely registering. He tilted the flask in Arya’s direction, but she made a face at him, a shadow of disapproval in her eyes. Jon made a point of ignoring her and took another deep swig, the golden liquid flowing through him.

Arya leaned back against her bike and Jon was struck again by how small she was against the vicious machine. Sometimes he couldn’t believe she could control that thing. But then he remembered who he was thinking about and what he’d seen her do. Jon didn’t think there was any one or anything his little sister couldn’t dominate.

‘How far behind us do you think they are?’ he asked her, his husky voice containing just the hint of the thick accent from back home that he could never seem to shake.

Arya shrugged, uncaring, ‘they’re always so slow. You know it’s not about the road for them. It’s always business, business, business.’ Jon nodded in agreement and took another swig from his flask before he capped it and put it back away, the whisky burning nicely in his veins. 

They waited in companionable silence for about ten minutes before they heard the rumble of bikes in the distance. Jon put his helmet back on and swung a leg over his bike, kicking the stand back up. He whistled a short, piercing sound and Ghost came bounding silently from the trees, jumping onto the back of the bike in a smooth, practiced motion. Jon gunned his engine back into life with a rumble as the first of the bikes roared by. One by one they passed until all fifteen had moved down the road, stylised wolfs heads standing out starkly against the black of their leather jackets. Then Jon and Arya pulled out behind them, following the last few kilometres into town. The eyes of the people inside every car and on every footpath followed them as they rumbled through the town. Jon always marvelled at it, the feeling of power, the hint of apprehension in people’s faces as they watched the riders pass.

The group pulled up at a set of shabby looking apartments on the other side of town and dismounted one by one. Jon glanced at Robb, but his brother was already striding inside to meet with whatever contact his mother had set up for them here. Arya walked up beside him, ‘Think there’s anything to do in this rathole?’  
Jon snorted, unzipping his leather jacket to reveal a white v-neck shirt, ‘First, did you see the place on the way in? Second, you know Robb will want us all for a meeting soon.’  
Arya sighed, kicking at his tyre. ‘Hey,’ he objected, shoving her away from the bike. ‘How many times do I have to tell you. This bike is a classic, treat it with some respect.’  
Arya snorted at him. ‘Your bike is a relic. I can outride you in my sleep on the Y2K.’  
Jon raised an eyebrow at her, ’That monster of yours has a helicopter engine in it. You could probably outride NASA.’ Arya grinned at him evilly.  
‘Seriously J, when are you going to join us in the future. Ice was a solid bike in dad’s time, but now …’  
Jon cut her off with a look, smoothing one hand over the gleaming tank of his 2000 Moto Guzzi Vulture. ‘This baby has more staying power than your flash in the pan will ever have and you know it. She was a legend in dad’s time and she’s still got more heart than your pocket rocket will ever have.’ He cast an eye over the beautiful machine, the matt grey of the tank and body, the polished chrome of the exhaust pipe pulling of the back, dull golden gleam of the rotors. Arya fired back at him, as he’d known she would, and they fell into a familiar bickering pattern. It was broken only by Umber approaching.

‘Robb wants you,’ he grunted at them both, sweating heavily under his thick beard. Jon pushed off his bike with a sigh and walked inside. It was cooler, the air conditioning blasting. Around the open kitchen and lounge room stood and sat leather clad men and women. Robb’s eyes flicked to them as they entered and then he started.

‘Theon’s been based here and collecting information on the Debt Collectors’ movements for the last few months.’ With a start Jon’s eyes turned to the man standing beside Robb. He hadn’t seen Theon Greyjoy in years - not since they’d been children together and Theon had been sent to live with them. The other man hadn’t aged well. His face was thin and drawn and he’d lost a few teeth by the looks of him. His eyes darted to Jon and Arya and then away again, nervously. Jon frowned at him. He’d never liked Theon that much, but Robb had always been close with him. With a wrench he pulled his thoughts from the past and forced himself to listen to Robb.

‘Mother wants us to back Theon up. We need to expand his networks in the Landing and find out as much as we can as quickly as we can. She’s pretty sure they’ve got a big shipment - drugs, guns, it’s not certain at this point - but it’s coming in soon and she wants us to be ready to take them when they come for it.’ Robb paused, looking around the room meaningfully. ‘Apparently whatever’s coming is so big we can expect that bitch Cersei to be there in person. And we all know where she goes, her brother Jaime comes panting behind her.’ 

There were sniggers around the room at this and Jon’s thoughts darkened at the mention of the Lannister twins. Everything good in his life had been tainted by them - his brother, Bran, his father - Jon pushed the thoughts away violently. Losing himself into the darkness that was the blood feud between the rival gangs - the Direwolves and the Debt Collectors - wouldn’t do him any good.

He reached into his jacket pocket for his flask and uncapped it. Arya nudged against him but he ignored her, draining the last of the liquid in a few mouthfulls. He leaned back against the wall, resting his head against it and closing his eyes, rubbing one hand over his stubbled face roughly.

Robb was finishing up, ‘We’ll hole up here tonight then finish the ride to the Landing day after tomorrow.’ Jon pushed off the wall and headed back out into the sunshine. Suddenly he didn’t want to be around here anymore, didn’t want to speak to Theon, see Arya’s judging eyes on him or have Robb look at him as if he wanted more than Jon could give. He whistled Ghost up and kicked his bike into life, roaring away from the building without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon's bike: https://goo.gl/images/9EQJo2
> 
> Seat for Ghost looks like this: https://goo.gl/images/UhPmpv
> 
> Arya's bike: https://goo.gl/images/asXMBS
> 
> Sorry, can't figure out how to link.


	2. Chapter 2

Arya found him an hour later sitting with his back to a massive old oak tree in a large public park. It was just on dusk and little solar lights had popped up around the paths. Ghost was lying at his feet, his huge body stretched alongside Jon's. At Arya's approach he cracked one eye open and then closed it again on seeing her.  
Arya sat down beside Jon wordlessly. She handed him a brown paper bag and he looked inside to find a thick, crusty loaf of bread. She'd also bought ham and cheese. At the smell of the warm bread, Jon's stomach grumbled loudly.  
'It's fresh out of the oven,' Arya said happily. 'You can't beat fresh bread.'  
Jon nodded his agreement, giving his sister a grateful look, and began to pull the loaf apart. He didn't know why she kept putting up with him. 

'I'm sorry,' Jon sighed, as the two of them began to layer thick chunks of cheese and meat onto their bread. 'I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but when I think what those Lannister cunts have done to our family ...'  
Arya gave him a look as if to tell him not to be stupid and then spoke around a mouthful of bread, 'I hate them just as much as you do. Every time I see Bran, stuck in that damn chair, all I can think about is making them pay. Cersie's top of my list,' Arya said, matter of factly. 'When I get the chance, I'll kill her.'  
'Well, from what Robb said, that chance might finally come,' Jon replied. 

'Do you really think she'll come in person?' Arya asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 'From everything Mother's told us, it's been years since she's left the Keep and that damned place is like a fortress. Why would she risk it? She has to know we're not the only ones that want her dead. I heard she's got bad blood with that gang in the east, what are they called, some foreign thing.'  
'Dracarys,' Jon grunted.  
'That's it,' Arya agreed. 'I'm surprised the Lannisters aren't all dead already, the amount of lives they've destroyed all across the country.' Arya grimaced at the thought of the destruction to their own family.  
She'd been there. Jon could never forget the fact that his little sister, at just nine years old, had been in the house when Cersie and her goons arrived. They'd taken the Direwolves by surprise, Ned Stark, pack leader, trusting in the truce that had been brokered weeks earlier. He'd trusted that it would survive the death of his friend and ally - of Cersei's husband.  
Arya had watched, screaming, and struggling, held back as Cersie's men had forced their father to his knees in front of her. She'd watched as a gun was held to the back of his head and he was asked if he had any last words. She'd watched ...

Jon reached over to ruffle his sister's hair and she pushed him off with a protest. Then she leaned her head onto his shoulder with a sigh.  
'Do you think it will ever be over and we can go back home and just be happy?'  
'I hope so,' he murmured. 'I truly hope so.' But deep inside he doubted that he could ever truly be happy, to let go of the violence and politics and pain. It was all tied to family. And family was everything. The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives, he reminded himself. At the end of the day, his life didn't matter, not if spending it bought life for his family. And what did he have to live for anyway. Apart from riding - which was as much a part of him as breathing - everyone else, every _thing_ else was family.

Next morning they left town early, thundering through the streets and back out to the open road. This time their backs were plain black, the grey wolves heads covered with heavy cloth. There was no point in advertising the hunt. 

Jon and Arya ranged out in front as usual. The first few hours were uneventful, Jon was lost in thought, letting the world speed past him. He was snapped back to the present when he felt a slight shudder in his bike. He frowned, looking down but it came again, stronger and then a horrible grinding crunch from inside the engine. He backed right off the throttle, cursing. The bike continued to shudder and grind as he pulled to the side of the road and turned it off. Arya pulled up beside him, lifting the visor of her helmet, bike still running.   
'What's wrong?'  
'I think I just blew the fucking gearbox,' Jon growled, kneeling down to examine the bike.  
'Oh shit,' Arya replied. 'Maybe if you rode something that wasn't almost as old as me,' she started, but her heart wasn't in it. She turned off her bike, sitting her helmet on it and came to stand next to him.  
'What are you going to do?' She asked.  
'I can't keep riding it, I need to get it somewhere and have it checked out.' Jon stood up, kicking at the ground. 'Fuck!' He shouted. Ghost looked across at him. He was lying along the seat of the bike, as if unsure why they'd stopped and waiting for Jon to get back on.  
'Let's wait for the others and see what Robb thinks,' Arya suggested. 

It wasn't long before the other riders came through, slowing as they approached. Jon waved them on, waiting until he saw Robb and flagging him over.  
Robb approached with a look of concern on his face and Jon quickly told him what had happened.  
Robb sighed, rubbing a hand through his thick curls. 'I wish you wouldn't insist on riding father's bike, Jon. There wouldn't be a gang member within a thousand miles that doesn't recognise Ice on sight.' Jon didn't bother replying. This was an argument they'd had many times and Robb knew he wouldn't budge. He didn't even have his father's name, Ice was all he had left of him. 

Robb continued, 'I don't want to risk checking it into a shop in the Landing and wind of it spooking the Debt Collectors off this shipment. The next town to where we are now is Blackwater Bay. It's not huge but might be big enough to have someone who can sort you out.' Jon nodded. He didn't care either way.   
Arya piped up, 'I can go and have a look and come back if it's a no go?'  
'Sounds good,' Robb replied. 'You'll pass us on the road back to Jon so just wave us through if you're fine and we'll keep on to the Landing.'  
He looked at each of them.  
'We'll be doing recon the first week or two anyway. A blown gearbox is going to take a bit to fix. Jon, you'll have to stay in town while they do, Arya -'  
The girl interrupted, 'I'll stay with Jon. We'll be back with you before the action starts.'  
'Fine,' said Robb. 'If you have problems, call me. Otherwise I'll see you in the Landing soon.' He reached forwards to clasp arms with Jon and pulled Arya into a quick hug. Then he jumped on his bike and pulled out onto the road again, not looking back. 

Arya turned to Jon, 'Well, I better go see if this next shitheap town has someone who knows how to work a spanner.'  
'Thanks,' Jon replied, resigning himself to a long wait in the sun. She shot him a grin 'don't go anywhere while I'm gone.'  
Jon glared at her but she just laughed and threw a leg over her bike, pulling her helmet back down.  
With a lazy wave, she was off and soon lost into the distance. 


	3. Chapter 3

Arya crested the hill and whistled under her breath as she looked down over the town of Blackwater Bay. She slowed up to have a look. The town itself wasn’t that big, it looked like two or three blocks of shops and businesses spread along the harbour and beachfront of the circular bay, and then it sprawled into houses climbing back into the hills around it. But the water itself - it glowed in the afternoon sunlight, a sparkling blue against the white sand that just made her want to strip off her hot leathers for a swim. She gunned the engine again and rode down into the town. Two blocks back from the beach she pulled up out the front of workshop, the large red and white sign proclaiming ‘Bay Repairs’. She kicked the stand down and pulled her helmet off, walking across to the door signed ‘Reception’.   
A buzzer sounded at her entry and she looked around. There was no one at the desk. Growling slightly under her breath she shouted out, ‘Hey, anyone here?’  
She heard a clank out the back of the room and an older, weathered-looking man poked his head through the door, looking her up and down.  
‘Yeah?’  
Arya cut straight to the point. ‘You do bikes?’   
The man shook his head. ‘Nah. You’ll need the Foundry for that. It’s two blocks up that way, towards the docks, on Smith Street.’  
Arya muttered her thanks and left, kicking her bike back into life.

The Foundry wasn’t easy to find, and she almost rode past it. It was squeezed between two big steel warehouses and the sign above the garage door was battered and faded. There was no reception desk so she just walked straight into the open garage door. The radio was blasting from somewhere in the back and her eyes took a moment to adjust after the bright sunlight outside. When they did, she laughed out loud. At the back of the cluttered workshop was a man standing over a workbench, various parts spread out in front of him. He looked a few years older than her and he was dressed in ripped black jeans and a tight grey singlet that was streaked with grease patches. His muscled arms were similarly marked with grease and dirt. But what made Arya laugh was the spanner in his hand, which he was using very enthusiastically as a microphone as he belted out the words to the song on the radio.

_Sweeeeet Caroline. DUM DUM DUM. Good times never seemed so goooood._

At the sound of Arya’s laugh, he looked up, startled for a moment. His deep blue eyes meet hers with only a hint of embarrassment and then he smiled, teeth flashing.  
‘Hi,’ he said, reaching up to turn the radio down to a normal volume.  
Arya was still chucking as she said, ‘Hi, you do bikes?’  
He raised an eyebrow and gestured around the workshop, where three or four motorbikes were lying around in various states of disassembly. Some looked like they’d been there a very long time.

Now it was Arya’s turn to feel embarrassed. ‘Are you any good?’ she asked bluntly.  
‘Depends,’ the man said, peering past her to where he could see the Y2K leaning on its stand out the front. ‘Can’t do much for a weapon like that. We mostly get older bikes. The real flash stuff ends up in the Landing.’  
‘Ever worked on a 2000 Moto Guzzi Vulture?’ Arya asked.  
The man’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, ‘You have a Vulture?’ he breathed.  
Arya made an impatient gesture, ‘My brother. He’s about 30ks out of town. Thinks he might have blown the gearbox. Can you do something about it?’  
The mechanic was already wiping his hands on a greasy rag and grabbing a set of keys from a hook on the wall. ‘What direction?’ Arya smiled at his eagerness, maybe this would work out okay. ‘On the way to Bitterbridge. I’ll meet you back there.’  
The man nodded, already jogging out the back door. ‘Don’t you dare let any one else get their hands on that thing,’ he ordered. The last thing Arya heard called over his shoulder before the door slammed behind him was, ‘My name’s Gendry by the way.’

————

Jon was sitting under the shade of a tree when Arya got back. He’d taken off his jacket and was sitting in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. He levered himself to his feet when she pulled up.  
‘Any luck?’ he asked hopefully.  
‘I found a guy who sounds like he might die for the chance to get his hands on your bike, and this place has a beach I’d kill for. So yeah, I guess.’ Jon smiled, a bit of tension leaving him.

They sat together until they heard the rumble of another engine approaching. A red truck towing a bike trailer came barreling down the road to them, pulling a sweeping U-turn before parking a few metres in front of them. The driver’s door opened and a man hopped out, boots crunching on the gravel.

He walked around the back of the trailer and made a bee-line for Jon’s bike, barely glancing at the other two.  
‘She’s beautiful,’ he whispered, eyes roving over the machine. ‘Can I touch?’ he asked Jon without looking at him, hands hovering over the body of the bike.  
Arya snorted, ‘Dude, are you planning to fix it, or fuck it?’ At this, the man’s eyes snapped up to them and he stepped back a pace, cheeks flushing faintly.  
‘Sorry,’ he muttered, running on hand over his short cropped black hair. ‘It’s just this is like my dream bike, I never thought I’d get the chance to _see_ one, let alone work on one.’  
‘You haven’t been given the job yet,’ Jon cut in and Arya looked at him sideways, surprised by the response. Gendry looked at Jon too, meeting his gaze confidently.

‘Sorry,’ he said again, reaching out a hand. ‘I’m Gendry.’ Jon reached out a hand to clasp his, surprised at the strength in the other man’s grip and the roughness of his work-calloused hand.   
‘Jon,’ he grunted  
’I work at the Foundry in Blackwater Bay. I’ve been a mechanic for the last eight years and there’s not a damn thing on two wheels I can’t take care of. You won’t find anyone in this town who’ll look after your girl better than I can.’ Jon nodded, slightly mollified and glanced over the man. The breath of his shoulders, the muscles rippling down his arms and across his chest clearly showed he was used to hard work. Gendry looked Jon up and down in turn, making his appraisal more obvious. Jon squared his shoulders, crossing his arms, his tight white shirt pulling against his biceps.  
Arya rolled her eyes. ‘Seriously guys, can we stop with the male posturing bullshit and get out of this sun?’  
Jon waited until Gendry dropped his eyes and then turned to his bike. He pulled his jacket, helmet and saddlebags off and stashed them in the truck. Then he kicked the stand back up. With a grunt he got it rolling and Gendry moved to the trailer to drag out a metal ramp. He moved into the the other side of Jon, laying one hand on the handlebars and the other on the tank and between the two of them they pushed the bike up the ramp and on to the trailer. Gendry worked quickly to secure it with straps, jumping down from the trailer when he was finished.

‘All good?’ he asked the other two.  
‘I just need to get my dog and we can go,’ Jon said, turning to let out a sharp whistle. After a moment, Ghost bounded out of the bushes beside Jon, tongue lolling.   
'Holy fuck,' Gendry blurted, eyes wide. ' _That's_ your dog? It looks like it ate your dog.'  
Jon smirked. He was used to this sort of reaction to Ghost. 'He's a Utonagan. It's a cross between a bunch of different breeds, probably wolf too at some point.'  
'He's huge,' Gendry said, eyes still glued to Ghost, who was starting to approach him, ears pricked up and tail stiff.   
'He was the runt,' Arya laughed, 'Even his little sister Lady was bigger -' then she broke off and a flash of anger crossed her face. Another debt on the Lannister tally, Jon thought grimly. Then he stood straighter, watching Ghost. The animal was still approaching Gendry. He never showed much interest in other people ... unless of was in defence of Jon. 

'Stay still,' Jon said to the other man in a low, serious voice. Gendry's eyes flicked to his, still wide, then he looked back at Ghost, who was only a few paces away.  
Then Gendry did something that made Jon freeze - he extended one hand to the animal. Ghost stepped forward to sniff at him and then he nudged his head under Gendry's palm and head butted him slightly - a clear invitation for an ear scratch. Jon exchanged an incredulous look with Arya. Ghost _never_ behaved like this with anyone except Jon. Even Arya had never got further with him than a quick brush of his fur as he passed her. 

Jon looked back at the pair. Gendry was smiling down at Ghost as he scratched around his ears and neck and Ghost's eyes were closed, his tongue drooping happily out of the side of his mouth. For some reason the scene irritated Jon. He clicked his fingers at Ghost, who opened his eyes, but didn’t move. Jon stared at him.  
‘Ghost,’ he said, tone low. ‘In the truck.’ Ghost nudged the man’s hand for one more quick scratch, then jumped into the back of the truck with a smooth movement. He lay down in the bed, head pillowed on his paws.  
Jon turned from him and pulled himself up into the truck in silence, closing the door a little harder than he needed to.

The twenty minute drive back to town was awkward. Arya had disappeared on her bike and Jon wasn’t in the mood for conversation with a random stranger. Gendry didn’t seem to pick up on that vibe though.  
‘You just passing through?’ he asked, not taking his eyes from the road.  
Jon grunted noncommittally.  
‘Probably a stupid question,’ Gendry continued as if he hadn’t heard. ‘No one really comes to Blackwater Bay on purpose. Not much here. Beach is good if you like swimming?’ This was clearly a question but Jon didn’t respond. Gendry continued, unfazed.   
‘We also have something you could loosely term “nightlife”. There’s one or two decent bars and something that passes as a club.’ Now Gendry’s eyes slid sideways to him, as if trying to read his interest. Jon ignored him, staring out the window.  
‘Where are you from?’ Gendry asked.  
‘Up North,’ Jon grunted. Gendry waited a moment for more, but when he realised it wasn’t coming he filled the silence.  
‘I haven’t done much travel myself. Pretty much born and bred around here, you know? Been to the Landing a heap of times and once to the Citadel. I’d like to travel more, see what else is out there.’  
Jon’s only response was to reach forward and turn the radio up. Gendry seemed to get the hint, falling silent for the rest of the trip.

——

Back at the Foundry, Jon grabbed his things out while Gendry guided his bike into the workshop, wheeling toolboxes and shoving crates out of the way to make room. Then he turned to Jon, holding out his hand for the key. Jon passed it to him reluctantly.  
Gendry was all business, his earlier friendliness gone. ‘Gearbox you recon?’  
Jon nodded and Gendry fired the bike up, reving the throttle. The sickening grinding crunch started up straight away and he killed the engine again.  
‘Yep, you’re out of luck. It’s definitely the gearbox.’ He turned to a dirty old computer at the far end of a bench. ‘Right, she’s Italian, so if I order the gears, bearings and an overhaul kit today, it’ll probably be in by - what’s today, Friday - probably by Tuesday next week, Wednesday latest. I can strip it down in the meantime then it will take me a day, maybe two to put it back together. So you’re looking at this time next week?’  
Jon glanced at Arya, a week was a long time with what Robb had going down. Arya shrugged at him. There wasn’t much they could do about it. He sighed and nodded, ‘Fine.’  
‘I’ll pull together a quote for the works -‘ Gendry started, but Jon cut him off. ‘Just fix it. As quickly as you can.’ 

He turned away from the man and walked out the front of the workshop to lean against the wall, tilting his head back with a thump against the iron. Ghost came to sit at his feet. He was being a jerk and he knew it. But there was something about Gendry that just put him on edge, he couldn’t explain it.

It was a while before Arya came out to join him. He could hear their voices murmuring inside the workshop and a few times Arya’s laugh rang out, the rumble of a man’s underneath it. Jon gritted his teeth. They weren’t here to socialise. He felt like going in there and telling his sister to hurry the hell up. But he’d already pushed the rudeness quota too far earlier. He shouldn’t bleed his bad mood into Arya’s enjoyment. Finally she came out, a smile on her face.

‘Gendry said there’s a hotel on the beach that’s not bad. It’s called the Inn of the Kneeling Man if you can believe that,’ she snorted. ‘Anyway, you should be able to walk to it. Get to the water and turn left until you come to it apparently.’ With that she put on her helmet and swung a leg over her bike.

Jon sighed, looped his bags over his shoulder and swung his jacket across it. Then, helmet dangling from his other hand he began walking, not bothering to look back at the shop as he left.


	4. Chapter 4

The Inn of the Kneeling Man was better than he’d expected. It was dated, but not hideously, and had this rustic look going for it that made it feel homely, rather than kitsch. Arya was waiting in the entrance for him when he arrived.   
‘I booked us joining rooms for the week,’ she said, handing him a keycard. ‘Ghost isn’t allowed in but they’ve got this courtyard out the back they’re happy for him to be in.’  
‘Thanks,’ Jon said, one worry slipping off his shoulders.  
‘We’re on the fourth floor and there’s no lift,’ Arya continued, making a face. Jon frowned as well, then hefted his saddlebags up higher. He clicked his fingers at Ghost, who padded silently into the entrance behind him.  
‘Courtyard’s down that hall and to the right, apparently,’ Arya said, pointing. ‘I’ll meet you up there.’

Jon nodded and set off, with Ghost at his heels. The space out the back wasn’t huge but there was a grassy area beyond the cobblestones and a large tree in the centre provided shade from the sun, though it was approaching late afternoon and no longer had the same sting as earlier.  
Jon pulled out Ghost’s foldable water bowl from his bags and filled it up from a tap on the wall.  
‘Stay here,’ he said, looking the dog in the eye. ‘I’ll bring you some dinner later.’ Ghost cocked his head at Jon, then bent to lap at the water briefly. He padded over the the base of the tree and flopped down, closing his eyes. Jon smiled at the big animal and went inside.

The room was decent, a four poster bed occupying the majority of it. Jon pulled the curtains to see that he was facing the ocean, a small balcony jutting out from the room. He slide the glass door open and a balmy sea breeze came wafting in. He stepped out and glanced to his right to see Arya, also on her balcony. She was leaning against the railing, eyes closed and face tilted to the wind. As she heard his door slide open, she looked across at him, grinning.  
‘Not bad,’ he said to her, grinning back.  
‘I’m so going for a swim tomorrow,’ she said. Jon nodded. They didn’t have anything better to do, and the water _did_ look good.

Each of them had a shower and unpacked their sparse belongings, then Arya knocked on the door that joined their rooms. Jon unlocked it and she came in to perch on the end of his bed, dressed in tight black jeans, her knee high black riding boots and a deep red singlet that was cut low in the front.  
Jon finished rubbing his hair dry with the towel and then stood in his jeans and socks, rustling for something clean to wear.  
‘Does this place do laundry?’ he asked, wrinkling his nose at two of his shirts and chucking them in the corner.  
‘I guess so, we can take some stuff down on the way out for dinner,’ Arya said. Jon hummed in agreement and chucked a few more things into his dirty pile. Finally he pulled on the least worn shirt, a soft navy blue henley that stretched over his chest and arms.  
‘You hungry now?’ he asked her, glancing at a clock on the wall. It was coming up to 5.30.  
‘Kind of,’ she replied. ‘Want to look around for a bit and then grab something?’  
‘Sure,’ Jon said, shoving his feet into his black, steel capped boots, leaving them loosely laced. He stooped to grab his dirty clothes and then pocketed his wallet, phone and the room keycard.  
Arya jumped off his bed. ‘Meet you out front in five,’ she said, disappearing back through the joining door.

They walked along the street facing the beach. It was a mixture of cafes, restaurants, gift shops, clothes shops and hotels. There were people around, but not heaps and a few cars cruised slowly down the road.  
‘Crazy night life on a Friday here,’ Arya observed dryly. Jon laughed his agreement.  
‘I actually don’t mind it,’ he said. ‘There’s something … relaxing about this place.’  
‘Are you going soft on me, J?’ Arya asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. ‘I thought you were all about the action, the adrenaline, the freedom of the road,’ she laughed.  
‘I am,’ he protested. ‘I didn’t say I want to buy a white picket fence and become Mr Small Town. I just said this place seems … nice.’ Arya kept laughing at him but didn’t say anything else. When they got hungry they brought burgers and chips from a cafe near the jetty and walked out to sit on the wooden pier, legs dangling over the water. The sun was setting, a blazing red and orange orb hanging over the water.

‘What are we going to do for the next week?’ Jon asked. He didn’t tend to have much free time. He was always moving from one place to the next, following Robb and taking on whatever jobs he needed them for.  
Arya swallowed a mouthful of burger. ‘I don’t know about you,’ she said, ‘but I’m going to spend the next few days lying on the beach in a bikini, and the next few nights seeing if I can find any friendly locals to show me the sights of this fair town,’ she finished with a smirk.  
Jon rolled his eyes at her. His sister was always the same, a new guy in every town, a bit of fun wherever she could find it. The beach sounded good, maybe he could find a bookshop and catch up on some reading. As for the company part … that wasn’t something he wanted to explore. 

‘Maybe I can find a friendly local for you too?’ Arya said, glancing sideways at him as though she’d read his mind.  
Jon shook his head emphatically, the last thing he needed was his little sister trying to set him up. ‘You know I’m not interested -‘ he started.  
‘For gods sake, Jon,’ Arya threw back at him. ‘When are you going to get over her. It’s been almost two years. Ygritte isn’t coming back. She left and she isn’t -‘  
‘That’s enough,’ Jon said, sharply. ‘It’s none of your business, and I’m not still hung up on her.’  
Arya snorted, ‘You know it was a bad idea to get tangled up with someone from another gang. The Free Folk have always done their own thing. She was never going to join us. A little bit of fun with someone new might be just want you need …’  
Jon look across at her, his face making it clear that topic wasn’t open for further discussion.  
‘Okay, okay, shutting up now,’ Arya said, holding her hands up in surrender.

They headed back to the rooms not long after that. Jon dropped a few burgers off to Ghost, who ate them in a single gulp each, and then went up to bed. He left the sliding door open, with the warm air blowing in, and his sleep that night was dreamless.

———

Next morning Arya was gone when he woke. She’d left a note on her bed saying ‘Gone to check on your bike. Lunch on the beach? -A’. Jon scrawled a quick ‘Sounds good - J’ on it, and spent the morning wandering up and down the streets, Ghost at his heels. He found a small, second hand bookshop and spent a while browsing, picking out a book or two he hadn’t read yet, then he found a nice shady spot under a tree at the edge of the beach near their hotel and settled in, kicking his shoes off.

Arya startled him from a doze later when she dumped a bunch of bags beside him with a rustle of plastic. ‘Shopping is not bad here, for a backwater.’ He took his arm off his face and looked up at her, squinting in the sunlight.   
‘Where are you going to put all that when we leave?’ he asked, eyeing the bags as he sat up.  
‘Oh … places,’ she said vaguely, waving a hand. ‘I got something for you too,’ she said, hunting amongst the bags. She pulled out a soft white shirt, collarless, with buttons undone to mid chest. It looked two sizes too small.

Jon cocked an eyebrow at her questioningly.  
‘It’s for tonight. We’re going out with Gendry and some of his friends.’ Jon looked at her blankly.  
‘The mechanic,’ she said, rolling her eyes at him. ‘You know, the one with his hands all over your precious bike?’ Jon flashed back to the man he’d met yesterday, the one with the big blue eyes and all the questions.  
‘No,’ he said. ‘No way.’  
‘C’mon J,’ Arya pleaded. ‘I can’t go by myself, you never know what might happen to a girl all alone in a strange place.’ She pushed her bottom lip out and widened her eyes innocently.  
Jon laughed despite himself. ‘You mean I never know what might happen to whatever poor man tries to do something you’re not interested in?’   
Arya stuck her tongue out at him. ‘Either way, you’re coming or I’m going to make the rest of your stay here miserable. And you can’t ride off, because you’ve got no bike.’  
Jon sighed and lay back down, putting his arm back over his eyes.  
‘Whatever,’ he said, knowing she could do it. ‘I could use a drink anyway. But you can’t make me talk to any of them.’  
He didn’t see the small smile Arya directed at his prone form.


	5. Chapter 5

After lunch they went back up to their rooms. Arya disappeared for a moment then walked in through the joining door wearing a ruby red bikini top and lacy black shorts over the bottoms. She threw a few more things Jon’s way. He looked up at her, holding a pair of black board shorts slashed with grey and a navy beach towel.  
‘I take it we’re going swimming?’ he asked. She rolled her eyes at him, ‘Well I’m going swimming. You can sit in your room in shorts and a towel if you prefer.’ He flicked the towel at her and she yelped, jumping back out of his reach with a smirk. 

They walked along the sand for a while, Ghost loping beside them in the water, snapping at his reflection playfully. The beach was busier now, people out on a hot Saturday afternoon to enjoy themselves. The sun felt golden and warm on Jon’s bare chest and back as they meandered along. Maybe this enforced break was a good thing. His worries seemed further away in the bright light.   
There were towels and umbrellas spread out all along the beach and they passed a group of guys playing volleyball. There were a few whistles and catcalls and suddenly Arya’s walk became more pronounced, her hips swinging.   
Jon nudged her with his hip. ‘Your incorrigible,’ he laughed.   
‘Me,’ she protested, ‘I’m pretty sure half of them were checking you out.’ Jon flushed slightly, darting a glance back over his shoulder. One or two sets of eyes did indeed seem to be raking their way up his body. One of the guys met his gaze, dipping him a quick wink and a flashing smile.

Jon turned back around and Arya laughed at his red face. ‘I told you,’ she said. ‘You should find a friendly local and unwind a little.’   
He didn’t say anything back, his mind starting to wander back to just how long it had been since he’d been with someone. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. Sometimes he _ached_ with how badly he wanted to get lost in someone else’s body. It was just that … he wasn’t one for casual flings - he never had been. If he was with someone, he wanted it to mean something. Wanted to know it was going somewhere. And that sort of attachment was … complicated, with the sort of life he led.

Jon dropped his towel on the sand and headed for the water. ‘C’mon,’ he said, ‘enough talking. Bet I can beat you to that buoy out there.’ Arya glanced at him, ‘Oh, you’re on,’ she said, as she sprinted for the water. They reached the buoy at the same time, panting and laughing as each of them slapped the metal structure. The water was refreshingly cool and the feeling of weightlessness was something Jon had forgotten. He lay back in the water, gazing up at the sky. He heard splashing nearby as Arya climbed up to stand on the buoy. 

They spent a while out in the water, lazily swimming back and forth, splashing and dunking each other, before they called it a day and headed back into shore. Ghost had made himself at home on Jon’s towel and it was wet and sandy.  
‘Really?’ Jon asked, giving the huge dog an exasperated look. Ghost’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and he almost seemed to be silently laughing as he stood up, shaking his shaggy coat. Jon picked his towel up, flapping the sand off it and draped it over his shoulder. He’d dry as they walked back to the rooms anyway.

Arya left him to it when they got back. ‘We’re going out at nine,’ she instructed as she disappeared into her own room. Jon groaned loudly, he’d almost forgotten she’d roped him into going out that night. He heard her muffled shout through the wall of the room next door.  
‘No arguments!’ 

_______

Jon showered then wiled the evening away reading on his balcony. He wasn’t hungry and figured a few drinks on an empty stomach might make the pain of the evening’s enforced socialisation easier to bear anyway. Just before nine he changed, pulling on a pair of black jeans and the white top Arya had bought for him. He pushed the sleeves up, leaving his forearms bare. Just as he’d thought, it was skin tight, open at the neck and stretched across his shoulders and biceps. He sighed, knowing that if he attempted to wear anything else his sister would probably throw all his clothes off the balcony.

He lay back on his bed to wait for her, flicking idly through the room service menu. It was 20 minutes before she came through the joining door and Jon’s eyes widened. Arya was dressed in a skin-tight black dress with a high collar that circled her neck and a diamond cut open across the chest. It had capped sleeves and hugged her body until mid-thigh. She wore strappy black heels and had pulled her hair up into a braid on the right side, revealing the shaved section of hair that was usually covered when she wore it loose. Silver chains looped from the multiple piercings in her ear and her eyes were smokey and her lips a deep, blood red.

Jon whistled appreciatively. ‘You look hot! I think you’ll struggle to find which friendly local wants to show you around the most tonight.’ She smiled at him wickedly. ‘Let’s go show these hillbillies how the Starks party.’

———

‘The Satin Palace, really?’ Jon groaned. ‘It sounds like the name of a whore house.’ Arya elbowed him sharply ‘be nice,’ she warned. ‘Or else.’

When they walked inside, the beat of the music was throbbing heavily. The club was dark and smokey, heavy curtains hanging from the ceiling and against the walls. Green laser lights slashed through the groups of people writhing on the dance floor. The room was already busy for the early hour. Jon and Arya made their way to the bar. Jon ordered three shots of whiskey and threw them back one at a time. Arya eyed him disapprovingly. ‘Really, J?’  
He shrugged at her, the buzz of the alcohol already burning through him, ‘You wanted to party,’ he said loudly. She relented and ordered herself a shot, which she downed with a wink at him. 

They were both waiting on another drink when Jon felt a hand on his shoulder, he tensed and turned to see the mechanic from the day before - Gendry. He was standing between the two of them and broke into a broad smile when they turned.  
‘You made it,’ he half-shouted against the music. Arya reached forward to give him a hug and Jon frowned. When had she become that friendly with the other man? Arya stepped back and Gendry extended his hand to Jon. Jon glanced down at it before reaching out to meet his firm grip. Gendry leaned forward again, ‘You look amazing,’ he said to Arya, his eyes flicking across at Jon as he spoke.  
‘Thanks,’ Arya said. ‘You scrub up pretty well yourself.’ Jon’s looked the other man up and down. He wore dark jeans and a black singlet that stretched tight across his board chest and hugged its way down his body. He wore an open grey shirt over the top of it, sleeves rolled up, showing his powerful arms.  
‘C’mon,’ Gendry said, reaching out to pull them both forward, ‘I want you to meet a few people.’ Jon shrugged his hand off and turned back to the bar. ‘I’ll meet you in a minute,’ he said to Arya. She shot him a warning glance but turned to go with Gendry.

Jon ordered another shot before he picked up their drinks. He needed to settle himself. He needed to let go of this weird tension he felt around the mechanic and just enjoy the night. He glanced out across the pumping club to spot where his sister had gone. He could see Gendry across the other side of the dance floor at a booth against the wall. Arya was standing next to him and he had his arm around her shoulder. Jon gritted his teeth. He knew Arya wanted to have fun tonight. But this guy was too old for her. Besides, he was fixing Jon’s bike and mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea. 

He pushed his way through the crowd, holding the drinks, heedless of the people he jostled on the way through. When he got to Gendry and Arya, he levered himself in between them in the pretence of handing Arya her drink. Then he looked around the small group seated at the table.   
Gendry turned to him, leaning in to speak in his ear ‘I was just introducing Arya to everyone,’ he said, breath hot against Jon’s neck. Jon glanced across at him, then back at the group as Gendry gestured.  
‘That’s Lommy,’ he said, indicating a gangly young man with curly blonde hair who tilted his beer at Jon in greeting.  
‘Grenn,’ he said, waving at a big, burly man with short cropped hair and a slightly cross-eyed look. Grenn smiled at Jon. Gendry’s hand brushed against Jon’s back as he pointed out the next person. Jon stiffened, not wanting to be rude and move away, but acutely aware of the touch.  
‘Pyp.’ Pyp was dark haired and thin, a serious looking guy who nodded his hello.  
‘And this,’ he said, indicating a large, heavy-set man at the other end of the booth, ‘is my housemate, Hot Pie.’ Startled, Jon turned to look at Gendry, sure he couldn’t have heard him right. Hot Pie caught the reaction. His face split into a broad grin, fleshy cheeks dimpling.  
‘Trust me,’ he said loudly. ‘It’s better than my real name. I’m a baker,’ he clarified, as Jon continued to look mystified.

Gendry’s hand dropped away as he finished the introductions. ‘Who wants to dance?’ he said. Arya took a long sip of her drink and clunked it down on the table, grabbing Gendry’s hand. Lommy, Grenn and Pyp all got to their feet too, squeezing out of the booth.  
Gendry cocked at eyebrow at Jon in invitation, but he looked away, sliding into the newly-vacated booth. ‘Later,’ he called. Gendry shrugged and the group moved away, pushing onto the dance floor. Jon watched them from the booth. Hot Pie seemed content not to talk; he was fiddling with his phone, the screen lighting up his face.

One song slid into another and the dancing got looser as the group of five got more familiar with each other. Jon’s eyes wandered over the club, grudgingly admiring the style as he sipped his drink. It wasn’t a bad place. Any other night and he might be out there on the dance floor, letting loose. He finished his drink and tilted his glass at Hot Pie to see if he wanted anything. The big man looked up for a second and shook his head, turning his eyes back to his phone.

Jon pushed to his feet, feeling slightly unsteady, then made his way through the crowd back to the bar. As he waited to be served, his eye was caught by a couple grinding near the edge of the dance floor. He had his hands on her hips, powerful arms bracketing her body as he pulled her against him. She was standing with her back to him and had her arms twined up around his neck. Her grace the counterpoint to his strength. His head was bent down, saying something into her ear, and as she threw her head back to laugh, Jon realised with a shock that it was his sister. It was Arya and the man she was grinding up against was Gendry.  
He pushed off from the bar, angry without knowing why. He made his way over to the two dancing and tapped Gendry roughly on the shoulder.

Gendry turned around and smiled when he was it was Jon. Then his smile faltered as he saw the look on the other man’s face. Arya stepped away as Gendry turned and she opened her mouth to say something to Jon. But he had already stepped up into Gendry’s space, going chest to chest with the other man. Gendry’s deep blue eyes looked into Jon’s as he waited to see what Jon would do. For some reason this calmness made his anger rise higher.  
‘You stay away from my sister,’ he spat, glaring into the other man’s face, inches from his own. Gendry’s eyes widened in surprise and then he … grinned, a deep, mischievous smirk. He leaned forward, brushing his chin against Jon’s cheek as he spoke into his ear, voice low and gravelly.  
‘Relax Jon,’ he said. ‘Your sister’s not really my type. She hasn’t got the right … equipment.’ Jon shivered at the raspy voice in his ear. The heat in the words draining away his anger and replacing it with something … more complicated. He took a step back, feeling foolish. That feeling was compounded when Arya punched him hard in the arm.  
‘Are you done being an idiot?’ she demanded. Jon looked down, shamefaced, and began to back away.  
‘Nah-uh,’ she shouted, reaching out an arm to drag him forward. ‘You’re staying here and you’re going to socialise and have a good time if it kills you.’

After that it wasn’t too bad. Gendry didn’t seem to hold any hard feelings, shooting him a look every now and again that seemed more curious than angry. Jon loosened up a bit, letting the drinks he’d had flow through him and the beat guide his movements. After a while he was surprised to realise he was having fun. The six of them danced for a while longer before they took a break. Lommy, Pyp and Grenn went back to the booth and Jon, Arya and Gendry headed to the bar to collect more drinks for everyone.

‘So,’ Gendry said, as he leaned on the bar and caught his breath. ‘Arry tells me you had a good swim this afternoon?’  
‘Arry?’ Jon said, cocking an eyebrow.  
‘I like it,’ Arya laughed. ‘Reminds me of my tomboy phase when I was a kid. Remember, Jon?’ Jon shuddered slightly as he remembered.  
‘I think I still have bruises from that phase,’ he complained. Arya laughed gleefully. The look on Gendry’s face was so obviously interested as he looked from one to the other that Jon relented and shared the story.  
‘When Arya was about - what eight? nine? - she decided she would wear nothing but our brother Bran’s hand me down clothes. And she carved herself this wooden sword -‘  
‘Needle,’ Arya interrupted.  
‘That’s right, she called it Needle. And she used to jump out from behind every door or from under every bed for _weeks_ swinging that damn thing into us as hard as she could and pronouncing that we were too slow and now we were dead. You hit me in the nose once!’ Jon accused, turning to Arya. ‘I thought you broke the damn thing.’ Arya dissolved into giggles at the memory and Gendry laughed too, the sound making Jon’s lips curl up into a smile. His face was so full of life and happiness, it was hard not to laugh with him.

The night continued that way, swapping stories, downing drinks, dancing. Eventually the others left - Hot Pie had to be up at some crazy hour to start work - and Jon, Gendry and Arya decided to take a walk to clear their heads before heading home. Jon stumbled on his way down the steps and Gendry reached out to grab him, pulling him up against his hard body with ease.  
‘Thanks,’ Jon muttered. ‘Can usually hold my drink better’n this.’  
Arya giggled. ‘No you can’t. You’re a terrible drunk.’  
Jon aimed a swipe at her and almost over balanced again. Gendry wrapped an arm around his waist, shrugging Jon’s arm over his shoulder. Jon couldn’t think of a reason to protest. It was easier to walk this way, and Gendry’s body was hot against his side in the cool night air.

In a few minutes they were back at the Inn and were about to enter the door when Jon looked up at Gendry with a gasp.  
’Stairs!’ Gendry, looked at him, confused, and then at Arya, who was also looking stricken.  
‘Soooo many stairs,’ Jon moaned. Gendry caught on with a laugh.   
‘You don’t have to stay here tonight,’ he offered. ‘My place is only a couple of blocks from here.’ Jon and Arya hesitated, exchanging glances.  
‘There are no stairs at my house,’ Gendry said in the voice of someone revealing a fantastical secret.  
‘Sold!’ Jon cried out, spinning away from the building and nearly overbalancing. Gendry caught him again with a laugh, holding him up with ease.  
‘You can bring your dog too if you want,’ Gendry offered.  
‘Ghost,’ Jon gasped. Then he yelled out, ‘Here boy!’ Arya and Genry shushed him, laughing, and Arya pulled her heels off to tiptoe through the entrance of the Inn and out of sight. In a moment Ghost came bounding back through the door. He paused to sniff Jon for a moment then jumped up, putting his paws on Gendry’s shoulders, pushing him back a step. Gendry laughed, scruffing his free hand in the thick fur around the dog’s neck, the other arm still holding Jon upright.  
‘Traitor,’ Jon muttered under his breath.

With Ghost trailing, they weaved their way to Gendry’s house. He shushed them as they approached the front door. ‘Hot Pie has to be up in like an hour,’ he whispered. Jon nodded seriously at this, eyes solemn and wide. Arya sniggered at him. He poked his tongue out at her. Gendry sighed.  
When they were in the house he flipped on the hall light. ‘There’s a spare room and a fold out bed on the couch,’ he whispered.  
‘Bags the real bed,’ Arya shot across before the words had even registered. Jon resigned himself to an uncomfortable night.  
Gendry showed them the bathroom and left them to it while he made up the couch. Jon stumbled back into the room, pulling his shirt off and dropping his pants as he did so. Next moment he realised he’d forgotten his shoes, as his pants got tangled around his legs.  
Gendry laughed and pushed him back onto the bed, kneeling in front of him to unlace his boots and pull them off before tugging his jeans the rest of the way off. Jon wiggled up the bed further, pulling the covers over himself.  
Gendry stood again.  
‘Night Jon,’ he said, into the shadowy room.  
‘Night Gen,’ Jon murmered sleepily. And then he was out.


	6. Chapter 6

Jon woke the next morning to the sound of clanking in a room nearby and the smell of warm bread. He lay in bed with his eyes closed as he started to piece together memories of the night before. He remembered dancing and talking, telling Gendry things about ... home? Things he hadn't shared in a long time anyway. He remembered leaning in close to talk in the other man's ear so he could be heard over the music. He remembered the smell of him, spicy and warm. Gendry's laugh as he threw his head back, the feeling of hard muscles under his hands as he held himself upright against the other man's body.   
'Shit,' he muttered, rolling onto his back and pushing the covers down to his waist with a groan. At the movement his head began pounding in protest and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

A moment later, Jon heard rustling as someone leaned around the corner of the archway that led into another room. He opened his eyes and looked across to see Gendry, whose eyes flicked up from his naked chest a second later to meet Jon's, his cheeks pinking slightly. He was dressed in baggy grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips and another tight black singlet.   
'Sorry,' he said. 'I didn't mean to wake you.' Jon found himself feeling self-conscious, lying in bed, shirtless, with Gendry watching him. He pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing a hand through his tangled black hair. This time he didn't miss the way Gendry's eyes darted down to his chest as his muscles flexed. 

'What time is it?' Jon mumbled, to cover the strange feeling that spiked through him at the thought that the other man might be checking him out.   
'Just past ten,' Gendry replied, not meeting his eyes. 'Hot Pie got home a little bit ago, your sister's been out for a walk, Ghost’s out the back somewhere and I'm just putting together some breakfast if you're interested.'  
Jon nodded then winced, one hand coming up to his head.   
'Do you have any painkillers?' he asked, squeezing his eyes closed again.   
'Sure,' Gendry said, his voice slightly husky. 'I'll be back in a sec.'  
He came back with a glass of water and two pills, which Jon accepted gratefully. Then he put a towel and a shirt on the edge of the bed.   
'You're welcome to use the shower while I cook,' he said. Jon looked at the shirt, then up at Gendry, whose face reddened again.   
'It's mine ... you don't have to wear it if it's weird or something, just thought you might want something clean ...' he trailed off.   
'Thanks,' Jon murmured. Gendry gave him a small smile and turned back into the kitchen. 

Jon stumbled into the shower, letting the hot spray pour over his shoulders and neck as he leaned forward, pillowing his head on his arms against the wall. He stayed there until the painkillers kicked in and his head stopped banging, then he slowly rinsed his hair and body, the scent of shower gel hanging from the caddy on the wall reminding him of something that he couldn’t quite place. It was nice, anyway. He rinsed off and then towered himself dry, stepping back into his jeans from the night before. He rubbed his hair dry roughly then pulled on the t-shirt, the soft, grey material rubbing against his body. He breathed in and recognised the scent that he’d just washed in. Oh, he realised. That was what Gendry smelled like. A small tendril of warmth flickered through him at that thought and he shook himself mentally. He was being stupid.

He walked into the kitchen and spotted Arya already seated at the table, chatting with Gendry’s housemate - Hot Pie. She’d obviously gone back to her room to shower and change, she was wearing shorts and a t-shirt that he’d never seen before. He walked up behind her and ruffled her hair.  
She shoved him off with an annoyed look and Jon slumped into a seat at the table.   
‘Good night?’ Hot Pie asked, with a smile.  
‘How are you even functioning?’ Jon asked him. ‘Did you sleep last night?’  
Hot Pie shrugged, ‘I’m used to the early hours, comes with the business. I bought home a little something for you both to try,’ he said.

At that moment Gendry turned away from the stove to place a plate in front of each of them. It was piled high with thick, crusty toast, crispy bacon, eggs, golden hash browns ...  
'Oh my god,' Jon moaned. 'I think I love you.' Gendry froze and his eyes flashed to Jon's, startled.   
'Uh,' Jon said, 'I didn't -' But Gendry's face broke into an easy smile.   
'It's just one of the many benefits of keeping me around,' he said with a wink. 'I can fix anything on two wheels and I make a mean morning after breakfast.'   
Jon glanced down at his food, face pinking slightly. Across the table from him Arya was laughing into her toast.   
Jon kicked her under the table and she glared at him. 

Gendry sat down too and there was silence for a while as everyone ate.   
’So good,’ Arya said, leaning back in her chair as she chewed her last mouthful. ‘You’re definitely worth keeping around.’ Gendry smiled at her in pleasure.  
'So,' he said, 'I don't know if you two have plans for the rest of the day but I could take you for a drive if you want? There's a big section of forest not far out of town that's actually pretty cool.'  
'Gendry, you are such a friendly local to be showing us around like that,' Arya said, staring directly into Jon's eyes as she did so. He aimed another kick at her under the table, but she'd anticipated and tucked her legs out of the way. She tipped him a wink and then looked at Gendry.   
'It's a great idea but I already have plans for the afternoon with another friendly local who I met last night while you two were whispering in each other’s ears.’ Both men's eyes turned to her, then to each other quickly, then away.   
She continued, 'I'm sure Jon would still love to go though, wouldn't you Jon?'  
Now both of them looked at him, Arya's face a smirk of satisfaction and Gendry's ... hopeful?  
'Uh ... sure,' Jon said. Getting out of town for a bit _did_ sound good. 

Gendry grinned. ’Great. Do you want to head out soon or chill for a while?’  
Jon thought about it for a moment. ‘I don’t know if my body is keen on right now.’  
‘No worries,’ Gendry said, ‘give me a sec to fold the couch back up then we can hang out and watch some TV or something if you want?’   
‘Sounds good,’ Jon said, the idea of doing not much suiting him just fine.  
Arya helped clean up after breakfast while Jon sprawled out on the couch, then she headed out the door with a cheery, ‘be good.’ Hot Pie disappeared into his room soon after. ‘He likes gaming,’ Gendry explained as he walked back into the lounge room, ‘has a whole system set up in there.’

He hesitated for a moment, looking at the couch and the armchair sitting next to it. Jon pulled his feet up a bit so he was only taking up two of the three cushions from where he lay, arms behind his head in one corner of it. Gendry sat on the vacated cushion, reaching forward for the remote. He put his feet up on the coffee table and flicked the TV on.  
‘Any preferences?’   
Jon shook his head. ‘Something I don’t have to think about.’ Gendry laughed and flicked for a moment until he found a show about a custom bike workshop where they did strip down re-builds and some fancy paintwork. Jon sighed happily, shifting into a more comfortable spot. His foot slid forward on the couch, nudging slightly against Gendry’s thigh. He froze, but the other man didn’t seem to notice, so he left it there, turning his full attention to the TV.

They spent a couple of hours watching TV, talking shit, making observations about this bike or that, parts used, their own preferences in a ride. The conversation flowed easily. It was only when Jon went to get up for a drink that he realised both his feet were tucked in against Gendry’s leg and the other man’s arm was resting comfortably across his shins. He extracted himself, feeling suddenly awkward again.  
‘Uh, do you want to get going soon?’ he asked, as he stood.  
Gendry looked up at him from the couch, ‘Sure,’ he replied, sounding as though he wasn’t too keen on the idea any more. Gendry changed into some heavier jeans and they grabbed a quick sandwich each before heading outside.

'Since it's only going to be two of us,' Gendry said, pulling up the roller door to his garage as he spoke, ‘do you want to take the truck or go for a burn on my bike?' Jon looked in at the machine that was laid out in the centre of the garage. He whistled in appreciation.   
‘She’s beautiful,’ he said, walking around it. ‘I always liked Ducati’s. The XDIAVEL is a nice looking model. Blue looks good on it.’ The bike was sleek but meaty, the gleaming engine on full view under the deep blue tank. The fat tyre in the back was just begging to eat the road. Gendry smiled at his appreciation of the bike.  
Jon didn’t usually like to ride passenger, but in the absence of his own bike, this would be better than nothing.  
‘Let me swing by my room to grab my jacket and helmet, then let’s give her a run,’ Jon said to Gendry with a grin. The other returned it, a bit of extra heat in his eyes.  
‘I’ll give you a lift,’ he said, pulling his own jacket down from a hook on the wall. It was black leather slashed with the same deep blue as his bike up the sides. It fitted his form like a glove, enhancing his broad chest and narrowed waist. Gendry hung his helmet on the handlebars, dropped a pair of sunglasses inside it and swung his leg over the bike, turning the key. It rumbled to life and he gave it a few revs, before backing it out of the garage with his feet to either side. Jon followed him out, pulling the door down. 

He walked over, then hesitated a moment before throwing his leg over and sitting behind the other man. He put his feet up on the pegs and leaned back slightly, balancing himself with his hands on his thighs. Gendry glanced back to check he was ok, then revved the bike, driving it smoothly down the driveway and onto the road. They were back at the hotel in a few minutes and Jon jumped off to head upstairs. He grabbed his jacket, helmet and aviators and thought about changing his pants and shirt … but something in him was reluctant to part with it. _It’s just comfortable_ , he reasoned with himself. _Will be good for the ride._  
Back out on the road, Gendry had the bike running still and he’d put his helmet on. It was a half-helmet like Jon’s, open in the face and his black sunglasses hid his eyes as he glanced across at Jon. 

Jon shoved his own helmet on and threw a leg over the bike again.   
‘Hold on,’ Gendry called over his shoulder before he revved the bike, kicking it into gear and swinging it around hard, peeling off from the pavement in a squeal of rubber. Jon was startled at the sudden movement and thrown hard against the other man’s back. He reached out instinctively to grip Gendry’s hips as they accelerated down the road. The two of them were now pressed together from thigh to chest and Jon realised, for the first time, that this may not have been the best idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gendry’s bike: https://goo.gl/images/xPzA44


	7. Chapter 7

Jon had never felt less relaxed on a bike. He was aware of every inch of contact between himself and the man in front of him. As soon as they'd cleared the town, Gendry had opened the bike up, bearing down on the throttle. The rushing wind and the speed meant Jon had no chance to shuffle back in his seat or take his hands off Gendry's hips for balance. He could feel the heat of Gendry's thighs through his jeans as his legs bracketed the other man to either side. Jon pushed aside thoughts of the last time he'd been pressed up against another person, the rushing heat of their movement together. It wasn't like that with Gendry ... was it? He thought maybe it could be and the thought sent a spike of heat through him. 

The mechanic was ... good looking, Jon admitted to himself, with his square cut, stubbled jaw and his deep blue eyes. He'd always been attracted to strength in others, it was what had drawn him to Ygritte. That and her 'no fucks given' attitude. In Gendry he liked the calmness he saw, the sense that the other man could keep his head in a tough situation. And how easily he laughed. He seemed to enjoy life so much, be so open to people. Jon reflected on his own attitude. He found it hard to trust, hard to connect with others. For so much of his life it had just been his family and duty - doing whatever his father, and then Robb, had needed him to do to protect his family and his home. He thought about Ayra and her pushing for him to just open up and have some fun. That idea still didn't seem quite right to him. He didn't want to just have some fun and leave someone behind afterwards. 

He was jolted out of his thoughts as Gendry pulled out hard behind a car, speeding past it in a blur and then curving back in to their lane smoothly. The manoeuvre made him smile. The man knew how to handle a bike. He leaned in against Gendry's body so he could shout in his ear against the roar of the engine.   
'Show me what she can really do.'  
Gendry glanced back over his shoulder for a second then grinned, teeth flashing in a devilish smile that made Jon's heart thump in his chest.   
Then he pulled down hard on the throttle and the bike roared beneath them. They were moving so fast that the trees were a blur, and the wind whipped at them. Gendry whooped in exhilaration and Jon joined him, gripping tighter at his hips. There was nothing better than the road and the freedom of racing down it. He was suddenly very glad that today, at least, he was sharing that with Gendry. 

It wasn't much longer before they slowed, Gendry pulling into a smaller side road that was signed 'Kingswood Campground'. They rode up it until they reached a large, open clearing with a few picnic tables. Gendry pulled up near the start of a small path that wound its way into the trees. He turned the bike off and Jon let go of him, sliding back slowly to throw his leg over the bike.  
Gendry slid off after him, pulling his helmet and sunglasses off and hanging them over the handlebars. Then he turned to Jon as he unzipped his jacket. His face was red with the wind and his eyes sparkled with the lingering adrenaline. Jon supposed he was probably similarly affected. He ignored the way his hands tingled to touch again.   
Gendry shrugged out of the jacket. He was only wearing a black singlet underneath and Jon tried not to notice the way his sharply defined biceps glistened with the heat of the ride. He pulled his own gear off, laying it over the seat of the bike, glancing around at the empty campground.   
Gendry noticed him. 'Your stuff will be fine here,' he said. 'Hardly anyone comes up here anymore.'   
Jon nodded, 'where are we going?'   
'Up that path about half an hours walk is a pretty cool waterfall if you're interested?' He gestured into the shadowy trees. If nothing else, the shade looked inviting. It was another hot day and the ride had done nothing to cool Jon off.   
'Sounds good,' he said. 

They set off down the trail; it was wide enough to walk side by side, but neither of them spoke for a few minutes.   
'I'm sorry I was so rude to you when we met,' Jon blurted out suddenly. Gendry looked across at him in surprise.   
'I'm not great with new people,' Jon muttered, looking at the ground as he walked.   
'You were fine last night,' Gendry said.   
Jon laughed, 'I was drunk last night.'   
Gendry laughed too. 'Ah, alcohol,' he said, 'the beginning of many beautiful friendships.'   
'Yeah, don't have many of those either,' Jon said, embarrassment tingeing his voice. 'I move around a lot and I mostly spend time with my family.' Gendry looked at him, appraising him. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to change his mind, saying instead 'do you have much family, aside from Arya?'  
Jon nodded, 'Yeah. I'm the oldest, then I have three brothers, Robb, Bran and Rickon, and another sister, Sansa.'  
'Wow,' Gendry laughed, 'your parents were busy.'  
Jon grimaced slightly, hesitating, then said, 'actually they're all half siblings. I grew up with my step-mother after my dad brought me home one day when I was a baby. I never knew my mum.'  
Gendry looked at him, but instead of the pity he was expecting, there was understanding. 'How many years before you gave up hoping she would come find you?' He asked.   
Jon looked at him, surprised at the question. No one had ever asked him that. No one ever really talked about his birth mother. He'd tried asking his dad a few times but had always been told they'd talk when Jon was older. Well, now he was older and Ned Stark was dead.   
He thought about the question for a while.   
'I think I was about ten when I stopped thinking she would come ... and probably about nineteen when I stopped hating her for leaving me behind,' he said quietly. Gendry huffed a laugh.   
'Well you're a better man than me then. I still hate him,' he said bitterly. Jon looked across at Gendry, whose face was dark with anger.   
'My dad,' he explained. 'Blew through town one day, gone the next and nine months later my mum was left to raise me as a single parent. She was only nineteen when she had me. We struggled my whole life.'   
Jon reached a hand out to him, grabbing his arm gently to stop him.   
'That's rough,' he said, looking Gendry in the eye. 'I don't know what would have happened if I didn't have my family around me growing up. They've made me the person I am now. I owe everything to them.' Gendry looked down at Jon's hand on his bare arm. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and the anger seemed to leave him. Jon gave his arm a brief squeeze, then dropped his hand.   
'Well if they're anything like your sister, you're a lucky man. She's great.'  
Jon snorted, 'she's a pain in the arse ... but yeah, she's great.'  
After that their conversation lightened up and they chatted as they walked along, shoulders bumping together and hands brushing past each other occasionally. Neither one pulled away from the touches. 

The path widened into a large open clearing and as they passed through the last trees, Jon gasped at the sight before him. At the far end of the clearing, a thirty metre high waterfall spilled down a number of stone tiers before emptying into a deep, blue pool.   
'Want to cool off?' Gendry asked him, a grin on his face. Jon looked at him and Gendry nodded his head at a rocky outcropping at least ten metres above the deep pool of water.   
'When we were kids we used to come up here and jump off top rock.' He cocked an eyebrow at Jon in challenge. Jon eyed it doubtfully, but Gendry was already stripping his singlet off, letting it fall to the grass beside him. He kicked his boots off next and then paused with his hands on the button of his jeans.   
'Of course if you're not up to it, that's fine,' Gendry said, his tone making it perfectly clear that if he wasn't up to it Arya would hear about it and the two of them would tease him mercilessly.   
'Oh I'm up for anything you are,' Jon said and Gendry smiled at him, holding his eyes as he dropped his jeans to the ground.   
Jon's heart suddenly beat harder at the hot look that had come into the other man's eyes at his words and the sight of his almost naked body standing in front of him in the dappled sunlight.   
He broke eye contact to pull his own shirt - Gendry's shirt - over his head. This time the other man made no attempt to hide his appraisal. His gaze _raked_ Jon's body.   
Jon felt a stab of heat rush through him as Gendry's eyes drank him in. His gaze paused momentarily on the tattoo of a wolf that wrapped around Jon's side and back, but he didn't comment. Jon kicked his boots off and dropped his jeans quickly, standing in a pair of tight, black boxers.   
He arched an eyebrow at the other man.   
'Lead the way,' he said, gesturing at pile of rocks. Gendry gave him one last quick glance up and down then turned to walk to the edge of the rocks. He stepped on to them, climbing higher quickly and easily. Jon follow him, torn between watching where Gendry put his hands and feet, watching his own hands and feet and watching the almost naked body climbing above him, muscles rippling as he pulled himself from rock to rock. Gendry reached the top and turned to put a hand out for Jon. Jon ripped his eyes up from the other man's body a second too late   
Gendry's smile turned self-satisfied as he reached his hand down, but he didn't say anything.   
Jon reached for his hand and the mechanic's strength hit him again as the other man easily pulled him up the last section of rock.   
They stood on a large flat slab of stone, hanging out over the water. Jon moved to the edge to look over. It was a long way down from up here.   
Gendry moved beside him, naked chest rubbing against Jon's arm as he leaned out around him to look down. Jon's heartbeat stuttered at the touch.   
'It's easy,' Gendry said. 'You don't think about it, you just do it.' With that he took a step back then ran forward, leaping into the air before curling himself into a tight ball. A few seconds later he hit the water with a huge splash, sending spray flying everywhere. He disappeared under the surface for long enough that Jon's heart began to thud with concern. Then he burst back into the air, wiping water off his face and laughing.   
He lay on his back in the water and pushed himself out into the pool.   
'Come on down,' he shouted. 'Water's great.'

Jon looked down over the edge again, then took a few steps back, psyching himself up. Gendry’s words stuck in his mind. _You don’t think about it, you just do it_. Maybe that was what he needed in life for a while, less thinking and more doing. He took a deep breath and ran forward, launching himself off the edge and into open air. For a moment it felt like he hung in the air, weightless, then he tucked into a ball as he sped down at the water, hitting it with a huge splash. He was driven deep down into the water, then he uncurled his body, kicking up to the surface again. His head broke the water and he gasped for breath, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes and laughing.  
‘That was awesome,’ he said, treading water as he faced Gendry, who’d swum up to him. The other man smiled in return, a wide, happy smile. Drops of water slid down his face and his muscled shoulders bunched as he waved his arms lazily to stay afloat.  
‘Again?’ Gendry asked.  
Jon looked at him and grinned, ‘race you,’ he said, before rolling to his front and stroking out hard for the shore. He heard Gendry’s cry of protest behind him and then splashing. He increased his pace, pushing himself from the water and running for the rocks, jumping from one to the other heedlessly. He could hear Gendry close behind him, breath rasping. He reached the top first and paused to look down in triumph. Then his eyes widened as Gendry crested the top and kept coming. The other man grabbed him around the waist and took another step, launching them both off the ledge. Jon had a moment to feel the other man’s hard, wet body, slippery against his, and then they both hit the water with a crash and Gendry lost his grip on him.  
Jon pushed his way to the surface, spluttering and gasping.  
‘No fair,’ he coughed as Gendry surfaced beside him. The other man was struggling for breath and after a moment Jon realised he was laughing, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes.  
‘You - should have seen - your face,’ he gasped, coughing and laughing. Jon splashed water at him, but he didn’t stop, rolling to his back and splashing back at Jon, a sharp spray that caught him in the mouth.  
‘Oh, it’s on,’ Jon said and ducked under the water. He swum forward quickly to grab one of Gendry’s legs and pulled him hard under the water, kicking up to pull him down further as he struggled in Jon’s grip. He was just about to let go when Gendry twisted out of his hands and spun, kicking his way to the surface. Jon pushed up beside him, gasping for air.   
Gendry only gave him a moment before he grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him back under. Jon twisted and suddenly he was in Gendry’s arms, chest to chest with him, their wet bodies sliding against each other under the water. At the feeling of slippery heat, he stopped his struggling. Gendry’s grip loosened at the same time, his hands sliding down Jon’s back to rest on his hips. The two of them popped back up to the surface, both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Gendry’s mouth was open as he panted, and Jon couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping to the other man’s lips. Gendry darted his tongue across his bottom lip, grip shifting on Jon’s body, drawing them closer together.   
Jon looked back into Gendry’s eyes - the other man’s pupils were blown wide with want - then he licked his own lips.  
‘I -,’ he whispered, then cleared his throat. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ he said, breaking the other man’s grip and pushing back in the water. He didn’t miss the look of disappointment and hurt that flashed across Gendry’s face as he closed his eyes briefly, then nodded, clearing his own throat.  
‘Sure,’ Gendry said, ‘sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed -‘  
‘No,’ Jon cut in. ‘It’s just, I’m not going to be here for long and I don’t want to start something ….’ Gendry nodded again, but this time there was less hurt in his eyes.

Jon stroked out for the edge of the pool, pulling himself from the water and running his hands down his body to push as much water off himself as he could, before pulling on his jeans and t-shirt again over damp skin. He shoved his feet into his boots and turned to see Gendry doing the same. They didn’t talk on the way out, each lost in their own thoughts.

When they got back to the bike, Jon paused, awkwardly. There was no other option but to ride double again for the trip home. Gendry didn’t meet his eyes as he climbed on the bike and started it up. Jon threw a leg over behind him, achingly conscious now of exactly how close they were sitting to each other. It would be so easy to reach around the other man's body, reach down to cup him through his jeans. He tried to keep space between them as Gendry drove down the narrow road, but the Ducati wasn't made for a proper pillion seat and he slid forward again, hard against Gendry's back and arse.   
His heart rate sped up at the contact and he knew he couldn't keep denying it to himself. He wanted the other man. He wanted Gendry gasping under him, coming undone at his hands. The thought sent a bolt of heat through him, pooling at his groin. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to will the thoughts away. Getting hard while sitting this close behind Gendry, on his bike, right after he'd turned him down wasn't a good idea. It wasn't a good idea but Jon couldn't stop himself.   
As Gendry sped out onto the open road again, Jon grabbed his hips for balance, hands stretching a little further forward than he really needed to, so the bottoms of his palms were spread along the tops of the other man's thighs. In this position, Jon thought, he could pull Gendry hard against himself as he thrust -  
Gendry shifted slightly in his seat, seeming to shudder against Jon and his helmeted head drooped for a moment before he looked back up at the road. Jon relaxed his grip, forcing his hands up higher on the other man's waist. _No_ , he told himself. _You said no. This is not a good idea_. But a traitorous thought snaked its way back up to the surface. _You don't think. You just do it_.   
Jon spent the trip home achingly hard and excruciatingly aware of the man between his legs. Gendry pulled up in the driveway of his house and Jon jumped off the bike, adjusting himself as he turned away.   
Gendry climbed off too, not meeting Jon's eye. 'I'm going to put the bike away,' he said, his voice husky and cheeks flushed. This time, Jon didn't think it was from the wind. 'You're welcome to go through the house if you want to grab Ghost.'  
Jon nodded and turned to the house. Then he paused, turning back to the other man.  
‘Thanks for a great day,’ he said softly.  
Gendry met his eyes for the first time and he smiled, but it was tinged with sadness.  
‘Anytime,’ he said, then he pulled up the garage door and disappeared inside.


	8. Chapter 8

Arya knocked on the dividing door between their rooms a few minutes after Jon came in. She perched on the edge of his bed, dressed in the same shorts and t-shirt from that morning.  
‘Your hot date not work out?’ he asked, as he looked through his drawers for clean clothes. At this point, he didn’t really care about the answer but he thought he should make an effort.  
’No,’ she replied, ‘Mycah was great. We’re meeting up again tonight, going to one of the other bars. Want to join us?’  
Jon shook his head, ‘I’m having an early night tonight.’ She pursed her lips at him, looking him up and down.  
‘How was your day out with tall, dark and sexy?’ she asked.  
Jon’s face twisted and he sighed. Understanding flooded her face, ‘You like him, don’t you.’  
Jon nodded mutely, slumping into a chair.  
‘What happened?’ she asked, leaning forward and fixing him with the eye. Jon rubbed a hand across his eyes and began to talk.  
‘He’s - a really nice guy. He’s easy to talk to. He’s fun. We’re into the same things. I … I realised today that I ... maybe want to be with him.'  
Arya looked at him, a smile on her face. 'That's great J.'  
'No, it's not,' he protested. 'I've only known him three days. I'll be gone again in another five.'  
Arya looked at him, exasperation showing on her face.  
'No one said you had to marry the guy J. Just go with the feeling. See where it takes you. I know Robb needs us now, but if this thing with Gendry is serious, after we're done in the Landing, maybe you could come back here for a while and give it a shot.'  
Jon looked up at her, thinking about her words. He'd been focusing on the fact that come Friday when his bike was fixed he'd be leaving. He'd be going back to his normal life of roaming from place to place, doing pack business.  
But ... maybe his sister was right. Maybe it didn't have to be that way for a while. He let a tentative smile creep on to his face. Arya smiled back at him when she noticed.  
'My job here is done,' she pronounced, standing up from his bed. 'I'm going to get ready for tonight.'  
At the door, she turned to look back at him. 'Go and see him tomorrow J. Just stop over-thinking things for a while, okay.'  
Jon nodded, he might just do that. 

\------

It was nearly lunch time the next day when Jon turned up at the Foundry. He paused in the large open doorway, leaning against the wall for a moment to watch the man inside. Gendry was bent over a workbench and his hands moved confidently over the tools and parts spread out in front of him. He was singing quietly under his breath to some song on the radio, oblivious to Jon's presence. He looked so at home, so comfortable in this setting.  
Ghost brushed past Jon and padded into the workshop, nudging Gendry with his nose. Gendry made a startled sound and looked down, his face breaking into a wide grin as he reached out to scruff his hand in the fur of the dog's neck.  
'Hey boy, what are you doing here?' He asked. Then he looked up and saw Jon, leaning in the doorway. His smile slipped slightly as he straightened up.  
'Hi,' Jon said awkwardly, stepping into the workshop. 'I didn't mean to interrupt your work. I just came to check on my bike.' Gendry's smile faded altogether at those words.  
'And to see if you'd had lunch yet,' Jon continued quickly, holding up the brown paper bags in his hand.  
At this, Gendry’s face brightened again and he picked up a rag to wipe his hands on.  
'I haven't, no. Come in.'  
Gendry looked around for a moment and then pulled a few old pieces of seat foam out into a pile. Ghost looked at it, then walked over, turning a few times before he flopped down, head on his paws to watch them.  
Jon wasn't sure how to broach the topic of the day before so he decided to ignore it for now. He walked over to his bike, which was propped on its stand in the centre of the workshop, engine gutted out. Spread across a bench nearby was the gearbox. He ran his hand along the gleaming tank, looking at the machine.  
'I'm taking good care of her, don't worry,' Gendry said with a small smile at his obvious concern.  
Jon smiled back, drawn in to the other man's gaze. Gendry cast around for a moment then kicked two empty milk crates across.  
'I usually just eat on the job,' he said, 'sorry.'  
Jon shrugged and took a seat. 'I didn't know what you liked so I just got ham and salad and roast beef and salad rolls,' he said, holding out the bags.  
'I'm pretty good with most things,' Gendry said, his fingers brushing Jon's as he grabbed a bag from him. A tingle of heat ran through Jon's hand at the other man's touch. Gendry was watching him as he unwrapped the roll, his eyes curious.  
'I didn't think I'd see you again until your bike was done,' Gendry said, obviously deciding to get straight to the point.  
Jon shifted in his seat uncomfortably.  
'I'm sorry about yesterday ... I just - the situation and how I felt about it - it caught me by surprise, that's all. And I guess I didn't really respond in the best way.'  
Gendry raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees, holding the roll loosely between his legs. His bare arms glistened slightly in the heat and the streaks of dirt and grease running up them just seemed to emphasise his sharply defined muscles.  
'And how did you feel about it?' he asked, blue eyes searching Jon's.  
Jon swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.  
'I - uh - I haven't wanted anything as much as that in ... a long time,' he said, shifting his gaze down to his hands at the admission. He glanced back up to see Gendry smiling, his eyes hot and intense.  
'Good,' the other man said. 'Me either.' He didn't say anything else for a moment, biting into the roll as he watched Jon.  
'You any good on the tools?' he asked, finally.  
Jon was lost in the change of topic for a second, then he nodded. ’I do most of my own work back home.’  
‘Great,’ Gendry said. ‘Want to give me a hand for the afternoon? I spent all of Saturday morning and most of this morning stripping your Vulture down and I’m behind on a few jobs.’  
Jon nodded again, ‘Sure, sounds good.’ They finished their lunch quickly, then they both stood, Gendry brushing his hands on his pants.  
‘You ok to get those clothes dirty?’ he asked, looking Jon up and down. He was wearing one of his favourite grey t-shirts and a pair of black jeans he usually rode in. He hesitated for a moment. Gendry grinned, walking over to an old locker on the wall and rifling inside it for a second before he pulled out a black singlet, throwing it Jon’s way.  
‘You wearing my clothes is becoming a bit of a habit,’ he observed, the look in his eyes making it clear it wasn’t a habit he had any problems with. Jon felt a tingle run through his body in response. He dropped the singlet onto the milk crate beside him, reaching down to the hem of his t-shirt to pull it up, revealing sharply defined abs. Gendry’s eyes dropped to the bare patch of skin and Jon grinned slightly. His movement became slower as he dragged the shirt up and over his head. He made sure to stretch out as he did so, putting his chest and arms on full display.  
His action was rewarded by the look on Gendry’s face when he glanced across again. The other man looked _hungry_. Jon bent to pick up the singlet, pulling it down over his body, again getting the waft of spicy warmth he was coming to associate with Gendry. The scent made him think of standing pressed against him, being wrapped around him in the water, holding him on his bike. Jon’s heart skipped in his chest and he felt a hot flush of arousal spear through him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Gendry tore his own eyes away, at the movement, clearing his throat.  
‘That Yamaha needs a service,’ he said, indicating the bike beside Jon’s with a jerk of his head. ‘Oil and filters, brake, piston and bearing check. You good with that?’  
‘Sure,’ Jon said, pleased his voice stayed steady. He cast about for the tools he would need and got started. The radio was a low hum under the undertone of metalic clanking as each of them worked. Gendry at his bench and Jon behind him, but facing away as he worked on the bike in front of him. After a while Jon felt himself unwind again, the familiarity of the jobs he was doing and the pleasure of getting his hands dirty overcoming the thoughts his mind had conjured.

‘I’ve been wondering,’ Gendry said from behind him, continuing to work as he spoke. ‘Where’s home for you?’  
Jon paused for a moment, casting a glance over his shoulder. ‘A long way from here,’ he said. ‘It’s a town called Winterfell up in the North. My family - my dad’s family - pretty much founded it.’  
Gendry whistled, turning to face Jon, leaning back on his bench. ‘What’s it like?’ he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. Jon remembered their first meeting, in the truck into town, where Gendry had talked about wanting to travel.  
‘It’s cold,’ he said with a laugh. ‘We get completely snowed in at least once a year. But it’s good too, everything feels easier up there, like there’s less worries. I haven’t been home in a few years though.’  
‘How come?’  
Jon paused for a moment and Gendry hurried to say, ‘if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. Not really my business.’  
‘No,’ Jon said. ‘I do want to talk about it. With you.’ He sat back on his heels and thought.  
‘I moved out when I was nineteen. My step mother made it pretty clear that there were better things I could do with my life than be hanging around home. My dad wasn’t around by then, but he probably would have agreed. I’ve been back on and off since then, but the last few years - maybe three - I haven’t had the time. There’s always been things to do down South.’  
‘That’s a shame,’ Gendry said. ‘If you like a place it’s a shame not to be there. I wouldn’t mind travelling up North … one day.’ His eyes were on Jon as he said this and Jon felt a spike of excitement at the thought … would Gendry want to travel with him some day, come and see his home?  
‘Maybe I could show you around,’ he said with forced casualness, very aware that he was offering much more than that. He was offering a possibility at a future beyond Jon leaving at the end of the week and never seeing Gendry again. The mechanic smiled broadly, warmth flowing through his face.  
‘Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer,’ he said, turning back to his bench.

After that their talk flowed smoothly. Jon talked of the places he’d been, things he’d seen and people he’d met. Gendry talked of what he liked and where he most wanted to visit. At one point in the conversation Gendry turned to reach down beside Jon for a 10” spanner he had lying on the ground next to him. As he did so, his arm brushed the length of Jon’s and his stubbled chin rasped against his shoulder. Jon drew in a breath at the unexpected contact, the earlier heat rushing back through him.  
‘Sorry,’ Gendry murmured, but his movement as he stood back up was slow and Jon felt every inch of the contact between them. He turned back to his job but found it hard to concentrate. The sounds of work from the bench beside him had slowed too and Jon felt a stab of desire at the thought that Gendry had been just as affected by a casual touch.

It was only a few minutes later that the other man turned back to him, taking to one knee behind him, his right thigh bracketing Jon’s. He reached forward from behind Jon to test the tightness of the new oil filter he’d just changed. The movement bought Gendry’s back against Jon’s and his arm brushed against Jon’s side as he reached.  
‘Do you mind?’ Gendry murmured huskily in his ear. ‘I just need to make sure it’s tight enough.’ Jon’s heartbeat rocketed and his breath caught at the words, the other man’s heat and closeness and the huskiness of the voice in his ear.  
‘No, you’re fine,’ he said, his voice shaking slightly as he forced himself not to push back against the other man’s hard body. This wasn’t the time or the place. Gendry took his time with the action, and Jon could hear that his breathing wasn’t steady either. Then he took his hand off the filter and dropped it to his own thigh. Jon felt the brush of stubble against his shoulder for the barest moment before Gendry pushed himself to his feet abruptly and turned back to his bench.  
Jon remained kneeling on the floor, pulling in deep breaths and trying to force his breathing back to normal. It wasn’t the time … but he wanted more. He continued working half heartedly for a few more minutes, then he spoke over his shoulder.  
‘Can you have a look at this for me?’ He was kneeling in front of the back wheel, deliberately taking up all of the space in front of it and he’d pulled the brake callipers off to check their wear. Gendry came to kneel directly behind him this time, reaching over Jon’s shoulder with one arm and around his side with the other so he could get his hands on the brakes. The movement brought their bodies into full contact and Jon felt heat spark inside him, coming to pool low in his groin. He shifted his knees apart slightly and Gendy’s breath huffed against his neck at the movement.  
‘Would you say they’re too worn?’ he asked, his voice coming out with an edge of rawness.  
Gendry’s hands moved over the brake pads slowly, fingers testing the surface. His words, when they came, were directed into Jon’s neck and with another rush of heat, Jon realised the other man’s mouth was just centimetres away from his skin.  
’Yes,’ Gendry rasped. ‘These need changing.’ Jon shuddered at the sound, and at the feeling of Gendry’s breath against his neck. He nodded in agreement, his eyes closing and head tilting back slightly despite himself. Gendry’s arms dropped from the brakes and one hand came to rest on Jon’s left shoulder, the other low on his waist. The heat of them burned against his skin though the thin layer of material. His breath hitched again and he he gave in to his need to push back, press himself against the other man. Gendry gave a low groan at the movement, his hands tightening on Jon. Then he bent his head down to Jon’s shoulder, lips brushing over his skin with the lightest of touches. Jon’s breath shuddered out of him at the feeling and arousal flooded through him, making his whole body tingle in awareness of the other man’s touch.

At that moment a door banged loudly behind them and Gendry stiffened, pulling himself away from Jon. Jon’s eyes flew open and he gasped for breath, turning around to see what was happening. Gendry was climbing to his feet, face flushed and breathing hard. He turned back to his work bench as an older man entered through the back door of the workshop. His grey hair was tangled and wispy and he carried a box full of papers.  
‘That’s the accounts done for the month, young Waters,’ the man announced happily, then he paused, seeing Jon.  
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m Tobho Mott. I’m the owner of the Foundry.’ He reached down one handed to shake Jon’s hand. Jon hastily wiped his hand on a rag beside himself, still dazed from the closeness of Gendry’s body moments before.  
‘Hello,’ Jon said. ‘I’m Jon Snow, a - a friend of Gendry’s.’ Mott raised an eyebrow at this, turning to Gendry.  
‘You know the rules about people working on their own bikes in here, lad,’ he said. ‘I may have handed over management of the workshop to you years ago, but rules are rules.’  
‘He’s not -‘  
‘I’m not sir -‘ They both began at the same time. Gendry gave him a glance, his face still full of heat, then sucked in a deep breath and said, ‘Jon’s bike is the Vulture and he’s a paying customer. He’s also a decent mechanic and he offered to help me out with some other jobs as a friend.’ Gendry gestured to the dismantled Yamaha that Jon was clearly sitting in front of.  
‘Ah,’ Mott said. ‘Right, carry on then lads.’ With a smile he turned to a filing cabinet under the battered old computer and proceeded to dump the box’s contents into it. Whistling cheerfully. He flicked through a few things on Gendry’s jobs sheet then disappeared back out the back with a wave and a ‘don’t stay too late, boys.’  
Jon looked across at Gendry, who met his gaze with eyes that were still hot and hungry. But the moment had broken. He glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was already past five. Gendry caught the look and his shoulders dropped slightly. He sucked in a shaky breath, scrubbing one hand over his short cropped hair, then said ‘guess that’s it for the day.’ Jon pushed himself to his feet, palming himself hard as he did so. Gendry caught the movement and bit his lip between his teeth before he turned away.  
Ghost jumped up from his bed in the corner and followed Jon out the front of the workshop, where he paused to wait for Gendry. The other man came out a moment later.  
'You're welcome to come around again tomorrow if you want,' Gendry said, his voice husky, as he pulled the door closed.  
'Thanks,' Jon said, heat still flooding his body. 'I think I will.'


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up ... the next few chapters are basically smut #sorrynotsorry

On the walk back to the Inn, Jon grabbed a pizza for himself and another bag of food for Ghost. Tonight was a stay in and watch TV night as he tried to figure out his swirling thoughts. He settled Ghost out into the courtyard and headed up the stairs. It was still early, so there wasn't much worth watching as he sprawled on his bed, leaning back against the bedhead, open pizza box beside him. Finally he settled on some crime show about the drug trade. At least he could laugh at how unrealistic it was as he watched with half his attention.  
Thoughts of Gendry wouldn't leave his mind as he watched. The other man's body, the heat of his touch, the scent of him. He found his mind drifting back to that afternoon, Gendry's hands on his body, his mouth at his neck. He started to get hard as he thought about it. The thought of Gendry kissing his way down Jon's neck, hand reaching into his pants to rub his hard length.   
He groaned as the frustration of being denied a release that afternoon came back to him. Pushing the empty pizza box away he jumped off the bed and went into the bathroom, turning the shower on full. He stripped his clothes quickly, stopping briefly to bring Gendry's singlet to his nose and inhaling deeply. The material smelled of the other man and the scent made his heartbeat trip and his cock twitch in interest. He growled under his breath and threw the shirt to the floor as he stepped into the shower. The heat of the the water felt good against his tense body. He tried to get himself under control, to push the thoughts away, but he couldn't.   
One hand trailed down his naked stomach to grip lightly at his hard cock. He groaned at the sensation, throwing his head back in the water. He couldn't jack off while he thought of the other man. He shouldn't ... but he was already moving, his hand rubbing smoothly along his hard shaft.   
He grabbed his bottle of body wash and squirted a bit into his palm. The silky glide of his hand increased his pleasure as he rubbed up and down his cock.   
Jon spread his legs slightly as he imagined Gendry standing behind him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hip, his hard, hot body pushed against Jon's back. The other man was kissing his way down Jon's neck, stubble rasping against his skin.   
Jon moaned at the thoughts, hand moving faster. He imagined Gendry reaching around his body to take over, pushing Jon up against the wall as he fisted his cock. The other man's body all around him, his need clear as he brought Jon to the edge. Jon bit his lip as his hand pumped, swirling and pulling. His pent up tension from the last few days gathered in him.   
'Fuck,' he gasped. 'Fuck Gen- fuck.' He groan out his release, hand moving slower now as he panted under the spray of the hot water. 

\-----

He was lying in bed watching tv with the light off, sated and sleepy, when his phone buzzed on the table beside him. He debated ignoring it, but the only people who ever texted him were Arya and Robb and a message from either could be important. With a groan, he rolled to his side to pick his phone up, swiping to unlock it. 

Arya: In case I don't see you in the morning, we're going to Gendry and Hot Pie's tomorrow night for dinner. 

He raised his eyebrows at the phone. When had his sister had time to organise that? He's been with Gendry most of the day. 

Jon: When did you have time to organise that? I was with him most of the day. 

Arya: I know, he told me you two had a nice afternoon together ;) 

Jon stared at his phone. After a moment it buzzed again and Jon could practically read the exasperation in the message. 

Arya: I have his number J. I sent him a text. People do that in the modern age. One day you, too, will join it. 

He glared at his phone. It buzzed again. The new message was just a name and a phone number. He saved the number and mentally cursed his sister for knowing him so well. 

Arya: You're welcome :p

Then his phone went silent. He looked at the time. It was only 9.45. Then he took a deep breath and tapped out a text. 

Jon: Hi, it's Jon. Arya gave me your number. Just wanted to say sorry for her inviting us around tomorrow night. Hope it doesn't put you out. 

He looked at it for a long moment before pressing send, then dropped his phone to the bed beside him. He turned his attention back to the television, but couldn't help glancing at the screen every now and again. It remained silent and he began regretting the message. Did he come across as stalkerish tracking Gendry's number down?

Finally just past 10 his phone buzzed and he looked down to see Gendry's name. A smile broke out across his face as he swiped. 

Gendry: Hey, sorry, I was in the shower. And don't be silly. I was actually thinking of inviting you over anyway. 

Jon smiled at this and typed straight back. 

Jon: Ok cool. What can we bring then?

Gendry: Nothing. I was going to do a roast lamb and I think Hot Pie has something planned for dessert. His desserts are amazing. 

Jon: Sounds great. Looking forward to it. 

He watched the screen for a moment, trying to think what to say next. The little dots appeared beside Gendry's name to show he was typing. Then they went away. Then they came back. It was a few minutes before the message came through. 

Gendry: So ... I'm sorry about today. Old Mott has terrible timing. 

Jon thought back to the moment the owner had walked into the building. Gendry had been pushed up hard against him, hands on his body, mouth at his neck, just about to take things further. He knew it. But he'd been at work, and that had been the owner. Jon felt guilty again for pushing things that afternoon. 

Jon: Yeah, sorry about that. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble. 

Gendry wrote back almost immediately. 

Gendry: I'm not sorry about it happening. I'm sorry he walked in when he did. Another few minutes ...

Jon felt a new jolt of arousal hit him at those words and the image it conjured of what would have happened in another few minutes. 

Jon: Oh?

It was all he could manage. 

Gendry: I would have had you laid out on the floor under me. It's all I've been able to think about all night...

Jon drew in a shuddering breath, feeling himself harden again as he read the words and then re-read them, imaging Gendry pushing him down to the floor, straddling him, hands all over him, mouths moving together, hot and wet. He let out a low groan at the image, reaching down to palm himself through the thin material of his boxers. One handed, he typed back. 

Jon: ... me too

The next moment, his phone rang, the screen lighting up with Gendry's name. Jon's breath hissed through his teeth at the thought of talking to him now, while he was in bed, hard and thinking about his body.   
He took a deep breath and pushed answer.   
'Hi,' he said, and his voice sounded as strung out as he felt.   
'Hey,' Gendry said, his voice low and gravelly in Jon's ear. He shuddered at the sound, closing his eyes.   
'I'm sorry for calling,' Gendry continued in that husky voice that rocked through Jon. 'I just needed to hear your voice.' Gendry's breath hitched on the last word and Jon wondered suddenly with a stab of heat if the other man was touching himself too.   
'Where are you?' he asked.   
'I'm ... ah, in bed,' Gendry said in a hesitant tone, as if worried Jon might think he was a creep.   
'Me too,' Jon murmured, 'and you're undoing all the work I did earlier to get myself under control.' He pushed again at his hard length with those words, the pressure bringing a soft gasp to his lips.   
Gendry let out a groan at those words.   
'Tell me that means what I think it does,' he rasped.   
Jon laughed low in his throat. 'I spent my entire shower thinking about you wrapped around me and I came with your name on my lips,' he said. _Don't think, just do_.   
'Fuck-' the sound was punched out of Gendry in a moan. His breathing was heavier now.   
'Fuck,' the other man said again. 'I feel like I'm fifteen again. I came like ten minutes ago and already I need ...'  
At those words Jon groaned. He rolled to his back and pushed the covers off himself as he reached into his boxers to pull his hard length free. He let out a hiss as his hand wrapped around his cock, rubbing up and down in one smooth movement.   
'Need what?' Jon gasped into the phone as he pumped up and down his shaft.   
'I need you. Fuck Jon, I want you so bad,' Gendry panted into his ear.   
Jon bit his lip, hand moving more quickly, swirling up over the head, letting the pre-come that had gathered there slide back down, the hint of slickness making him moan. He paused for a second to lick a stripe up his hand, then returned it to himself.   
'I want to touch you. And taste you.'  
Jon's hips jerked at the words and he groaned.  
'Fuck Gen ...'  
'I want to tease you until you beg me to let you come,' Gendry growled.   
Jon's eyes were shut and with Gendry's voice in his ear it was easy to imagine the other man in bed with him, body pressed up against him. Mouth on his skin, hands exploring him. Jon moaned with need at the words and the images. At the other end of the phone Gendry echoed him, his voice ragged as he continued,   
'I want you to hold me down and fuck me.'   
Jon _whined_ at his words and the image they conjured. His hand moved faster and his breath panted.   
'I would be so good for you,' Gendry whispered and Jon panted, curling in on himself as the words tipped him over the edge. He cried out as he came and he heard Gendry's rough voice in his ear, 'Jon - ah fuck - that's it,' as the other man panted harshly before also grunting his release. 

For several moments Jon lay in bed, gasping for breath, as his heart pounded in his chest. He listened to Gendry on the other end of the phone doing the same. Warm pleasure curled through him at the sounds.   
'That ... was amazing,' he said.   
He heard a broken chuckle on the other end of the phone.   
'Next time,' Gendry panted, 'less phones, more touching.'  
'Deal,' Jon grinned, thinking of how soon next time might come. He pushed himself up in bed, phone still at his ear.   
'I should get cleaned up,' he said, 'and then I think I want to sleep ... see you tomorrow?'  
Gendry grunted his agreement, 'you know where I am.' He paused then said softly, 'sleep well.'  
Jon smiled into the phone as he said, 'you too.'


	10. Chapter 10

When Jon's alarm rang the next morning he came out of a dream about writhing bodies and deep, blue eyes. Sighing, he pushed his way out of bed and into the shower, stripping a release out of himself fast and hard. He groaned as he came and gave himself a mental shake. _Get it together. You have a whole day with him to get through. Jumping him on an oily concrete floor isn't how you want to do this_. A voice in the corner of the mind whispered _isn't it?_ He pushed it away firmly, turning the shower off and wrapping a towel around his waist.   
He stood in front of the mirror to shave, taking a few days worth of scruff off his cheeks and neck and trimming the short beard that hugged his jaw. 

When he was done he pulled on his jeans and Gendry's singlet from the day before. It wasn't that dirty and he liked the feeling of wearing the other man's clothes. 

Before he left he paused, listening at the dividing door to his sister's room. He hadn't heard any noise coming from it all morning and wondered if Arya had come home last night. Then he shrugged. She was a big girl and he'd see her tonight at Gendry's.   
The thought of the night to come sent a thrill of anticipation through him and he reiterated his mental pledge to keep things professional during the day. 

\------

As usual, Ghost bounded ahead of him to greet the mechanic. Gendry was kneeling on the floor, reaching for something in his toolbox and Ghost rubbed his head against the man's cheek, asking to be scratched. Gendry turned and wrapped his arms around the big animal with a smile, giving him a hug and a rough rub on the side.   
Jon's heart thumped in his chest as he watched the pair. _I'm fucked_ , he thought, and he took a deep breath and moved into the workshop. 

Gendry looked up to meet his gaze and his eyes lit up. He pushed himself to his feet and moved closer, his intention showing in his face. Jon put his hands up.   
'Please don't,' he said, and he saw a flash of hurt. Jon looked him in the eyes, letting the intensity of his feelings show through and Gendry relaxed a bit, his own face taking on some of that need.   
'Last night was - If you touch me, I won't be able to stop,' he said. 'Unless you want to end up bent over one of your workbenches, let's both just try and keep it at the friend level today?'  
Gendry's eyes had widened at the mention of being bent over and his breath hissed through his teeth. But he jerked a quick nod and closed his eyes to suck in a deep breath.   
'You're right,' he said. 'If we're going to do this, I want to do it right. And if you touch me I don't think I'll be able to stop until we're naked either.'  
Jon shuddered, the want ripping through him. Then he smiled weakly.   
'Deal then', he said, turning away and clenching his hands into fists so he wouldn't be tempted to reach out and pull the other man against his body.   
He took a deep breath and with a wrench he put his mind back in the headspace of the jobs for the day.   
'You want me to finish off the Yamaha this morning?' he asked, keeping his voice even and his eyes fixed on the bike.   
There was a pause, but Jon didn't turn around to watch Gendry control himself.   
'Yes - yeah, good idea,' the other man said thickly. 'I'll be up the back working on something else,' he said vaguely, then turned away. 

The morning passed quickly. The agreed separation of space and the familiarity of the tasks calmed them both. Eventually they began chatting from across the workshop. Simple things, whether either of them liked the song playing on the radio - Gendry was into hip hop, Jon preferred rock; what each of them liked to do in their spare time - Gendry had done a lot of hiking, Jon had a secret love for fantasy books. 

When Arya walked in later, Jon was laughing at a story Gendry was telling him about the time he'd decided that paddling a kayak out alone into Blackwater Bay in a storm was a good idea.   
'By the time I made it back to shore it was nearly midnight and my mum had basically mobilised the coastguard into a search and rescue. I was sore for days. I can't even look at a paddle now without shuddering.' It was a moment before either of them noticed her, and when they did Gendry smiled and moved to greet her.   
'Arry! I wasn't expecting to see you until tonight.'  
She shrugged, 'I like to show up in unexpected places.' Her look was knowing as she glanced across at Jon and he evaded her eyes, sure his feelings would be written all over his face. Arya pushed herself up on to a relatively clean section of bench, sitting with her legs crossed. She put a plastic bag down beside her.   
'I brought lunch, if you two can tear yourselves away from ... your work.' She ignored the glare Jon was throwing her way and rifled around in the bag, pulling out boxes of noodles.   
The three of them settled into eat, Jon passing chunks of meat to Ghost, who had come up to sit between him and Gendry, eyes big as he looked at the food. 

Arya looked across at Jon, 'I had a text from Robb this morning,' she mentioned casually.   
Jon felt himself stiffen. That life, and the responsibilities that came with it, seemed so far away here in the Bay.   
'Why didn't he text me?' Jon asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check it.   
'Probably because he knows you can barely use that thing.'  
Gendry coughed into his food at this and Jon glanced across at him, face reddening. Arya looked between the two of them, a smirk spreading across her face. The look in her eyes told Jon he was going to be having an awkward conversation later.   
'Aaaaanyway,' Arya said, still grinning. 'He just wanted to know how things are going here. The thing we need to be in the Landing for is probably happening early next week. I told him we were on track as long as parts come in today or tomorrow.'  
Arya looked across at Gendry who shook his head, 'I've had shipping confirmation, but nothing's arrived yet.'  
Jon had mixed feelings. Part of him wanted Ice back on the road - this was the longest he'd gone without riding in years - and wanted to be able to back his brother up. But another part, a part that was getting louder by the day, hoped maybe there would be a problem and everything would have to be pushed back another week ... or two. He glanced across at Gendry, who was watching him, the look on his face similarly torn. 

'I've run out of things to do in town,' Arya announced, jumping down from the bench, 'and Mycah had to work or something. Got anything you need a hand with?'  
Gendry finished the last of his noodles and chucked the box into an old 44 gallon drum that served as the workshop bin.   
'Sure, if you're half as good as your brother, there's a bunch of things you could help me with.'  
Arya snorted, 'J wishes he could be half as good as me.' Jon stuck his tongue out at her and Gendry grinned at them both.   
The rest of the afternoon passed like that, easy banter thrown around between the three of them. Soon enough it was past five and Gendry called it a day.   
'I need to go home and get this meat in the oven,' he said, wiping his hands.   
'Can't wait,' said Jon, smiling, a hint of heat back in his eyes. Gendry smiled back, a promise in his face.   
'See you in a few hours,' he said quietly, as he turned to pull down the workshop door. 

\------ 

Arya and Jon walked the short distance to the house later that night.   
'Will you stop fiddling,' Arya hissed at him as they stood on the porch. 'You look fine. You could be wearing a pink tutu and that man would still want to jump you.' She paused, 'now there's an image.' Jon elbowed her in the side but her words had helped dispel a bit of his nervousness.   
Hot Pie answered the door with a smile.   
'Come in guys, Gendry is just finishing up with the food.' He reached down to pat Ghost but the big animal pulled his lip back, showing his teeth. Hot Pie put his hands up, eyes wide.   
'No touching. Got it.'  
Jon gave Ghost a look but he wasn't really surprised. The reaction had been more in line with his normal behaviour than anything else he'd done lately. 

As they entered the kitchen, Jon paused. Gendry was facing away from them, busy with something on the oven. Jon took a moment to drink him in. He was wearing a light blue shirt, rolled up at the arms and unbuttoned in the front. It stretched across his broad shoulders and the jeans he was wearing hugged his arse in a way that made Jon itch to touch. He turned from the oven, a spoon in one hand, and saw them. He gave a quick smile of greeting to Arya, then he gave Jon a lingering assessment from the ground up. When his eyes met Jon's he brought the spoon up to his mouth, sucking the flavour off it absentmindedly. Jon's eyes dropped to the man's mouth and suddenly all he could imagine was Gendry on his knees in front of him, putting that mouth to another use. Heat flooded through him and he opened his own mouth slightly, licking his lips unconsciously. Gendry's eyes darkened as he noticed and he took the spoon back out of his mouth with a soft pop.   
'When you two have finished eye-fucking each other,' Arya said loudly, 'I wouldn't mind a drink.'  
Gendry broke his gaze from Jon's abruptly and flushed slightly. He cleared his throat and rubbed one hand over his short-cropped hair.   
'Sure, you guys go through to the dining room and we'll bring everything through in a sec.’ 

The dining table was already set and Jon sat down, trying to shake off his mood before he embarrassed himself. More.  
‘You got it bad J,’ Ary muttered under her breath, as she took a seat across from him.  
‘Shut up,’ he muttered, fiddling with his fork.  
‘Maybe you could just skip dinner and eat dessert off his body,’ she suggested, snorting a laugh at the look on his face. Gendry and Hot Pie both walked in at that moment and Jon aimed a kick at his sister under the table. Gendry placed a large tray of cut meat in the middle of the table and Hot Pie followed with two plates of roast vegetables.  
The food looked and smelled amazing. Hot Pie took a seat next to Ary and Gendry disappeared back into the kitchen, returning moments later with a jug of gravy and a beer for each of them.  
‘This ok?’ he asked, as he handed the drinks over.  
‘Perfect,’ Jon said, as their fingers brushed. Arya fluttered her eyelashes exaggeratedly at him from across the table. Jon decided ignoring her would be the best policy. He doubted it would help.  
Gendry sat down at the head of the table, between Jon and Arya. They all began to dish up and for a few minutes, the food distracted Jon from the man sitting beside him.  
‘This is delicious,’ he said to both of them, genuinely impressed by the meal.  
‘Thanks,’ Gendry said with a smile, then Jon started as he felt a knee brush against his under the table. His eyes darted across to his sister, but she was engaged in conversation about something with Hot Pie. He looked at Gendry, who was looking down at his food, then shifted his leg so it lined up with the other man’s more. Gendry’s eyes darted across to his at the increase in contact and Jon’s gaze again shifted to his mouth.  
He didn’t think he tasted the rest of his meal. All his attention was focussed on the contact between their bodies. Jon had twisted so he could rub his foot against the other man’s calf and Gendry kept darting little glances at him that made him think the other man wanted to shove everything off the table and lay him out on it.

‘Jon!’  
‘Huh?’ he said, pulling his head around to see Hot Pie holding his hand out for Jon’s plate.  
‘I said, did you want desert now? I baked a lemon pie this afternoon. It’s Gendry’s favourite so I hope you two like it.’  
‘Sure, yeah that sounds great, thank you,’ he replied, getting up to help take the leftovers into the kitchen. He passed Gendry as he did so, and the other man trailed his fingers along Jon’s arm, causing goosebumps to break out on his skin.   
His enjoyment of the pie was over ridden by his enjoyment of watching Gendry lick the sticky lemon and whipped cream off his spoon. He didn’t even think the other man knew how hot he looked while he was doing it. Gendy closed his eyes and moaned in appreciation of the pie at one point and Jon came close to pushing his chair back and straddling him.

 

Finally it was over and they all moved into the lounge. Hot Pie claimed the arm chair in the corner of the room and Jon and Arya took one end each of the couch. Gendry walked in last, carrying a handful of beers. He flicked the lights off and paused a moment at the couch before sinking in between Jon and Arya. It wasn't a big couch and his body was warm and hard against Jon's where they were pressed together from knee to shoulder. He reached across Jon's body to pass a beer to Hot Pie in the arm chair. As he did so, Jon caught a whiff of his spicy, clean showered scent and he breathed in deeply. Gendry shot him a glance as he shifted back into his seat and Jon's heart stuttered at the heat in his look.  
He took the drink Gendry offered him automatically and on the other end of the couch he heard Arya pop the top off hers with a hiss. As Gendry settled in beside him and picked up the remote to queue up the movie, Jon was painfully aware of every single place their bodies touched.

He tried to pay attention to the screen, but all he could think was whether he should reach out and put his arm around Gendry’s shoulder, or maybe reach for his hand, where it was resting on his thigh, just centimetres from Jon’s own. He wanted to touch the other man but he knew once he started he wouldn’t be able to stop.  
'Ugh, you could cut the sexual tension between those two with a knife,' Arya said about half an hour into the movie, waving her hand at the screen. 'They just need to stop dancing around each other and kiss for god's sake.' Jon glanced past Gendry to his sister, but she was very deliberately looking at the screen.   
'Yep,' Hot Pie agreed. 'This movie's obvious. They'll hook up and then live happily ever after.' Arya nodded, looking across at the big man.   
'You got anything better to do?'  
He raised an eyebrow at her, 'you like gaming?'  
She shrugged, 'depends. Give me anything that requires hand to hand combat and I'll dominate you,' she grinned, a challenge in her eyes.   
'Oh, you're on,' Hot Pie grinned back, levering himself to his feet. Just like that they were gone. Moments later the dull booming sound of the opening credits to Mortal Kombat echoed through the house.   
Jon sat frozen on the couch, Gendry motionless beside him, then the fact that they were alone, on the couch, lit only by the dim light from the hall, sunk in and his heartbeat rocketed higher.   
'Do you get the feeling,' Gendry said slowly, turning to him with dark eyes, 'your sister wasn't talking about the movie?'  
Jon smiled wryly. 'That's Arya, subtle as a brick through a window.'   
'She may have been on to something though,' Gendry murmured, shifting so he was facing Jon. Jon's eyes flicked down to the other man's mouth unbidden.   
'She may have been,' he agreed, voice rasping as he shifted position as well. 

He leaned forward, closing the distance between them slowly. Gendry moved to meet him, one hand coming up to cup the side of his face. Their lips brushed softly and then Jon brought his hands up too, cupping the side of Gendry’s face and the back of his neck. He pulled the other man harder against him, deepening the kiss. Gendry moaned softly, opening his mouth slightly and Jon pushed forward, suddenly desperate. He licked into Gendry’s mouth, kissing him hard, their teeth clashing together. Gendry responded instantly, pushing himself forward against Jon until he was lying back against the end of the couch and Gendry was above him, straddling him.

The feeling of the other man’s body against his, at last, was intense. Jon felt himself go to fully hard in seconds and Gendry grunted as he felt it too, grinding his hips down against Jon’s. The pressure and the contact brought a groan of need from Jon. He kissed Gendry desperately, their mouths drawing together and apart as each of them panted for breath, delved in for more. Gendry tasted like lemon and his mouth was hot and wet. Jon couldn’t get enough of him. The weight of his body against Jon’s, pushing him down into the couch, felt amazing and he let one hand move across the mechanic’s shoulders, gripping and kneading. He pushed at the shirt and Gendry shrugged his way out of it, not breaking the kiss, or the grinding pressure at their waists. Jon slid his hand under Gendry’s singlet, the feeling of smooth skin over hard muscles driving his need higher as he ran his hand up the other man’s back.

Gendry broke off from his mouth with a moan and kissed down his jaw to his neck. Jon closed his eyes and tilted his head back to give him better access. Gendry kissed his way down, sucking bruising kisses into his skin. One hand still cupped the side of Jon’s face, the other made its way down his body, gripping hard under his arse and pulling Jon more firmly against him.  
‘Fuck,’ he gasped and Gendry rolled his hips against Jon again. He pulled the mechanic’s mouth back up to his, kissing him desperately, losing himself in the feeling of their movement together, the hands on his body, the weight of the other man against him.  
He didn’t know how long it was before Gendry drew back, panting, to look him in the eyes, his own eyes heavy with his lust.  
‘I want to taste you. Please,’ he rasped.  
Jon hitched in a sharp breath at the thought and he pulled the other man back into a bruising kiss before he nodded. Gendry kissed him again quickly, then slid from the couch onto the floor. He pulled Jon around until he had one leg on the couch and the other off the side, then he moved forward to kneel between his spread legs.

He undid the button on Jon’s jeans quickly and nudged at him to raise his hips. When he did his pants and underwear were pulled swiftly down and his cock sprang free, aching and hard, pre come dripping from the tip. Gendry took it in hand, Jon hissing as the other man’s palm wrapped around his shaft. Then he looked Jon in the eye and licked a hot, wet stripe from the base to the tip.  
Jon threw his head back as a moan was ripped from him. Then Gendry started in earnest. He closed his mouth around Jon’s shaft, sucking back hard, before pushing his way down. His hand pumped as he did so and the _sounds_ he made, like he was getting off on it just as much as Jon was. Jon cupped the back of the other man’s neck with one hand, the other gripping into his own thigh as he let the sensations swell within him. Gendry was incredible, his hot wet mouth, his tongue licking its way up and down him. Just the look of him, eyes closed as he worked Jon over. Jon let himself get lost in it, and everything built so quickly - the aching, unfulfilled need of the last few days, the magic of the man on his knees in front of Jon right now, the feelings being touched was evoking in him.   
He could feel his release building within him.

‘Gen - I’m gunna come,’ he gasped, rubbing at the other man’s head. But Gendry just grunted and moved faster, his mouth wrapped firmly around Jon’s cock. Just the thought of shooting into Gendry’s mouth made Jon lose it. His fingers dug hard into the other man’s shoulder as he came with a hoarse cry, hips jerking up against him. Gendry moaned as he did so, tongue and mouth slowing, riding him through it. When he was done, Gendry pulled back, with one last, gentle lick that made Jon shudder.  
He looked at the other man, sitting back on his heels, his lips red and wet, his pupils blown wide with need. The other man looked wrecked, and Jon had a thrill of desire to realise he’d done this to him.  
‘You are fucking amazing,’ he whispered, roughly. ‘Come here.’

Gendry climbed back up the couch on to him and he groaned as their lips met in a deep, filthy kiss. Soon Jon broke it, pushing himself up and pulling his pants back on, leaving them unbuttoned, so he could push Gendry down onto the couch in front of him.  
‘My turn,’ he said with a wicked grin, and pulled Gendy’s singlet up his body to lay wet, biting kisses down his chest. He flicked the other man’s nipple with his tongue and was rewarded by a jerk of his hips and a hissed breath. He licked his way down Gendry’s sharply defined abs, nipping his skin and enjoying the moans that came every time. Then he palmed him through his jeans, feeling the hot, hard length of him throbbing through the material.  
Gendry moaned his name, one hand coming down to twist in Jon’s hair. The hint of pain at the movement made him hiss and bite into Gendry’s hip. The other man grunted again and tugged harder. Jon gasped, licking against him. He couldn’t get enough of his body.  
Then he backed up a bit and popped the button on the mechanic’s jeans, pulling them down and off him. He paused for a moment to look at the man spread out before him. His eyes were heavy with need, his face flushed and his chest heaving for breath. His cock stood heavy and proud between his legs, begging to be touched.

‘You are so fucking hot,’ he murmured, as he reached down to take the other man’s hard length in hand. Gendry moaned again at the feeling of having Jon wrapped around him. Jon bent down to lick the head of his cock, fist moving slowly.  
‘I haven’t done this before,’ he admitted huskily. ‘Tell me if you need -‘  
Gendry interrupted him, panting, ‘I could come just from looking at you right now. There is literally nothing you could do wrong.’  
Jon smiled and bent his head to lick his way over the already-wet tip of the other man’s shaft. Gendry’s hips jerked slightly at the contact and Jon opened his mouth to swallow him down. Gendry buried his hands in Jon’s hair again, not pushing him, but the feeling sent a thrill through Jon regardless. He sucked back hard, fist tightening on Gendry’s shaft. He movement ripped a moan from Gendry and his hands fisted in Jon’s hair. Jon moved faster, sucking up and down, seeing his much he could take into his mouth. Gendry writhed beneath him, a steady stream of moans and gasps coming from him as Jon increased the pace of his hand and mouth, letting the wet slickness glide his movements.

Soon Gendry was panting his name and then ‘I’m close.’  
Jon kept going, looking up his body to see Genry had his head thrown back, the muscles in his chest and arms in strained definition as his hands gripped Jon. His hips jerked against Jon once, twice, then he cried out sharply, sagging back against the couch. Jon felt a salty heat flood his mouth and he slowed his movements. When the other man’s jerky movements had ceased, he pulled off, licking at his lips. 

Gendry’s eyes opened slightly and he reached his arms out for Jon. Jon reached down to pull the other man’s pants back up his legs before he crawled forward to lay himself on Gendry’s chest. The other man pressed a brief, sweet kiss to his lips then Jon rested his head on Gendry’s shoulder, listening to his heart beat hard against his chest.  
‘That was incredible,’ the other man whispered into his hair, laying a kiss against the top of his head.  
‘Mmmm,’ Jon agreed, a sated lassitude creeping through him. ‘Next time we try the bed,’ he murmured, eyes closing. The last thing he felt was Gendry’s arms coming up to wrap around him.


	11. Chapter 11

Jon woke the next morning alone on Gendry's couch, a blanket laid over him. He groaned and stretched the kinks out of his neck, looking around groggily. Ghost was curled up on the armchair, head on his paws, watching Jon quietly. Jon smiled at him and reached for his phone on the coffee table.  
He squinted at the time - 9.20am - and rubbed a hand over his face, surprised he'd slept so long.  
He had three texts and he thumbed across his screen.  
The first was from his sister, a photo of him and Gendry asleep on the couch. Jon was lying half across the mechanic and his head was resting on the other man’s shoulder. Gendry's head was bent so his cheek was laid on Jon's hair. He saved it to his phone, a glow of warmth running through him.  
The message read: You two are good together. 

The unspoken message was _don't fuck this up J._

The other two messages were from Gendry. 

Gendry: Had to go into work sorry, parts orders come in early on a Wednesday. Feel free to use the shower and help yourself to anything you find in the fridge. See you later? 

The second text was from later in the morning and made Jon frown slightly.  
Gendry: Your overhaul kit is in. I'll get started on the rebuild this morning ...

He grabbed some toast but decided against a shower, thinking he should go back to his room and change.  
It was nearly lunchtime when he walked into the Foundry. The radio was playing loudly and Gendry was bent over the body of his Vulture when Jon walked in.  
He stepped up behind the other man, cupping his hips and pressing their lower bodies together. Gendry looked up, startled, then saw it was Jon and smiled widely. He straightened up slowly, pressing his arse back against Jon's groin and Jon's hands tightened on his hips involuntarily. Gendry chuckled low in his throat and turned to face him, leaning back against the bike.  
'Good morning,' he said, his eyes warm and happy.  
Jon leant in to kiss him. It started as a warm press of lips but then Gendry opened his mouth and Jon groaned, licking his way in, pushing the other man up against his bike. Gendry kissed him back, one hand coming up to edge its way under Jon's shirt. Jon broke off with a gasp.  
'Good morning,' he murmured back, eyes hot. Gendry gave him another quick kiss then dropped his hands with a smile.  
'Sleep well?' he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.  
'Very,' he smiled back. 'Waking up in a bed might be nicer though.'  
Gendry's eyes darkened at this and he glanced up at Jon, almost shyly.  
'I was actually wondering if you maybe wanted to stay the night tonight ... properly this time.'  
Jon felt a flush of warmth at what properly might mean and he nodded his head.  
'Yeah, that sounds great,' he said, leaning in for another kiss. Gendry broke that one, pushing him away gently.  
'If you don't distract me too much today I recon I can have your bike done by early tomorrow,' he said, standing straighter. 'Is it important that you ... leave ... as soon as you can?'  
Jon looked at him, rubbing the back of his neck with a frown. 'Yeah, it kinda is,' he said, regret in his voice.  
Gendry frowned, looking away, 'what do you have to do in the Landing anyway?'  
Jon hesitated, 'My brother, Robb, needs us to give him a hand with something. It's family business.' He paused, debating with himself, then said, tentatively, 'I was actually hoping, when we're done, I might be able to come back here for a while? Stay with you?'  
Gendry's eyes lit up at Jon's words and he nodded happily. 'Definitely. Yes. I'd love that.'  
Jon smiled at him and leaned in for another kiss, unable to help himself. The phone ringing distracted them and Gendry sighed, giving him a last quick peck and moving away. 'Reality calls,' he said and picked up the receiver. 

The afternoon passed quickly, small touches, stolen kisses, looks that were filled with promise. After work, they walked back to Gendy’s via the Inn so Jon could grab a few things. As they walked, Gendry’s hand brushed against Jon’s. Jon extended his fingers slightly, looping them against the other man’s. Gendry looked at him, surprised, then smiled and curled his fingers around Jon’s as they walked down the street together.

Gendry kicked his shoes off and stripped his singlet as he walked in the door of his house. He looked over his shoulder at Jon, ‘I’m gunna grab a shower … want to join me?’ Jon’s eyes roved down the mechanic’s naked torso and he pulled at his own shirt, hopping to get his boots off. Gendry grinned wickedly at him and unbuttoned his jeans as he walked into his bathroom, dropping them to the floor.  
He leaned into the shower cubicle to turn on the water and Jon came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him, pressing his bare chest against the other man’s back and bending in to kiss his neck. Gendry tilted his head to the side to give him more access and Jon breathed him in, running his hands over the other man’s chest and stomach. Jon reached down to cup him through the thin material of his boxers and Gendry murmured quietly in pleasure. He was semi-hard, but growing rapidly in Jon’s hand.  
‘These need to come off,’ he directed, pulling at the waist band of Gendry’s underwear with a snap that made the other man jump slightly. He turned to face Jon, dropping them obediently, standing in front of him, naked. Jon drank him in, looking him up and down. His body was magnificent, built in all the right places.  
‘Are you going to stand there all day looking, or are you going to do something about this?’ Gendry asked huskily, gesturing to his now very hard cock.  
Jon swallowed dryly and dropped his own boxers, pushing Gendry back into the shower. Under the warm spray he stepped forward until their naked bodies were pressed together. Gendry’s hands moved to Jon’s arse and he cupped it, pulling Jon hard against him, making their wet cocks rub together. Jon hissed at the sensation and leaned forward to capture his mouth. Their kiss was hot and wet and messy, each one getting lost in the sensation of the other’s body, the heat and the water all around them.  
As they kissed, Gendry continued to hold Jon hard against himself and Jon couldn’t help but start to grind forward against him, the pleasure of warm, wet skin on skin too tempting.  
Gendry chuckled throatily and reached around behind himself to grab a bar of soap. He broke the kiss for a moment to lather up his hand and then he reached down, grabbing both their cocks in one big, slippery hand. Jon moaned at the feeling and Gendry leaned forward to capture his mouth again, other hand gripping into his hip. Then he began to pump his fist up and down slowly, and the sensation was beyond anything Jon had ever felt. The smooth slide of the other man’s cock against his, the feeling of Gendry’s hand on his body, the low moans and grunts the other man made into his mouth as their tongues twined around each other. Jon dug his fingers into Gendry’s shoulders, unable to stop himself from rutting up into the other man’s hand. Gendry nipped him lightly on the bottom lip, drawing another ragged moan from Jon, but he increased his pace, his hand working them both smoothly, pausing at the top of their shafts to swirl his thumb across the heads, drawing a grunt of pleasure from each of them. He continued this movement, drawing up and down, swirling, increasing the speed.  
Soon Jon was on the edge, the sensations surrounding him becoming too intense, too overwhelming. He broke the kiss to pant against Gendry’s shoulder.  
‘Oh fuck … yes … fuck Gen… that’s it … so good.’  
Gendry leaned down to rasp in his ear, ‘Come for me now babe.’ At those words, Jon felt himself let go, he jerked his hips forward, thrusting up into Gendry’s fist, his come spilling over the other man’s hand. Gendry let him ride it out, then released him. He looked down, dazed, his head resting on the other man’s shoulder as he gasped for breath.  
Gendry was rubbing himself now, a punishing rhythm. With a thrill, Jon realised that his come was mixed with the slippery soap as Gendry rubbed his cock. The other man grunted, breath rasping and Jon pulled him into another kiss. He cried out his release into Jon’s mouth, his body trembling against him.  
They were both weak kneed as they washed themselves down and stepped out of the shower. Gendry passed Jon a towel with a smile that was full of warmth.  
‘You’re incredible,’ he said. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you.’  
Jon smiled back at him, something deep in his chest stirring at those words.

They dressed and left the bathroom, Jon taking up a seat at the bench in the kitchen while Gendry pottered around the room pulling together a stir fry. Jon watched him, impressed.  
‘I can barely boil an egg,’ he confessed.  
Gendry smiled at him. ‘I like cooking,’ he said. ‘To start with I kind of had to learn. Mum worked a few different jobs to pay the bills so she wasn’t home much and I tried to make sure there was something in the fridge for her when she got home from a shift. Eventually I started to like it, thinking about which flavours go with which, what meal can be pulled together from basically nothing.’  
They talked for a while about favourite foods and flavours and then the meal was ready and they both stood with their bowls, taking them over to the dining table.  
‘Hot Pie’s not joining us?’ Jon asked, just realising he hadn’t seen or heard the big man since he arrived.  
’No, I pretty much kicked him out tonight,’ Gendry said with a laugh, only a hint of embarrassment in his voice. Jon felt a hot flush when he thought exactly why they might want the house to themselves.  
He looked down at his food, taking a big bit of meat and vegetables.  
‘Oh my god,’ he said, through a mouthful. ‘This is amazing.’ He swallowed. ‘Your skills are wasted as a mechanic,’ he joked. ‘Why are you not a chef!’  
Gendry smiled at his reaction, pleased. ‘I’m happy to cook for you anytime,’ he said. Jon smiled, thinking about his return trip in the near future.

After dinner Gendry asked Jon if he wanted to listen to some music in his room. Jon cocked an eyebrow at him and he laughed, a little shamefaced.  
‘What?’ he protested. ‘It sounds better than do you want to go to my room and fuck now.’  
Jon smirked at him, ‘I don’t know about that,’ he said, in a voice that wasn’t quite steady. Gendry’s eyes flashed up to meet his and he reached out for Jon’s hand, leading him down the hall and into his room.  
Gendry fiddled with the stereo and turned some slow song on and turned the main light off so they were lit only by the bedside table lamp. Jon took a moment to look around, realising he hadn’t been inside before. There was a King sized bed in the centre of the room and it contained a computer and desk in one corner and a chest of draws in another. On the wall was a huge poster of a leather clad rider burning down the road on a 2000 Moto Guzzi Vulture. Jon turned to Gendry with a grin, ‘You weren’t kidding about it being your dream bike.’  
Gendry shook his head, ‘turns out you two are a nice little package,’ he said, leaning forward to kiss Jon. Jon wrapped his arms around the other man, deepening the kiss. He was falling hard for this man. Every time they were together, not just physically, but the more he got to know Gendry, the deeper he was getting.  
He backed the other man up as they kissed, hands running down his back to grip his arse. Gendry stopped when the back of his legs reached the bed and Jon pushed him gently until he sprawled back onto it, eyes dark with want. Jon stripped his shirt over his head and crawled on top of the other man, scooting him back on the bed. Then he went back to kissing, delving deep into Gendry’s mouth then down across his jaw and on to his neck and throat. He kissed and licked and then bit down gently into the muscle of his shoulder. Gendry grunted deeply, his hands on Jon’s back pulling him down against him and his hips thrusting up. Jon groaned at the reaction and bit down again. Gendry gasped below him. Jon tugged at the bottom of the other man’s singlet, pulling it up to reveal beautifully defined abs.  
‘This needs to come off,’ he rasped, and Gendry sat up slightly, pulling it over his head, muscles moving smoothly as he did so. Jon turned his attention back to Gendry’s neck, kissing and licking and biting. Then he moved down his chest and stomach, taking his time, getting to know every inch of the other man. Gendry was writhing beneath him, breathing heavily, one hand twined in Jon’s hair.  
When he got to Gendy’s hip he bit down again lightly, then nudged against his hard length. Gendry moaned.  
Jon moved off him for a moment so he could unbutton both their pants. Gendry lifted his hips and Jon peeled his jeans and underwear off him, throwing them on the floor. Then he quickly pulled his own pants off so they were both naked. He stretched out beside the mechanic, resting his head on a bent arm and let his fingers trail down the other man’s body. Gendry watched him with dark eyes, shuddering slightly under his light touch. Jon laid his palm flat on the other man’s stomach then inched it down as he leaned forward to kiss him again, slowly and gently. Their lips meeting and parting with soft moans. Jon’s hand found Gendry’s hard shaft and he began to rub up and down it, pumping softly. Gendry sighed under him. After a few moments he reached across to Jon’s waist, urging him up. Jon shifted so he was laying between the other man’s spread legs, his aching cock rubbing up against Gendry’s. His arms were bracketed either side of the other man’s shoulders and he deepened the kiss, rolling his hips as he did so. They moved against each other lazily at first, enjoying the pleasure and the pressure. Soon though, the feeling of moving against Gendry, his noises of pleasure and his mouth on Jon’s started to intensify. 

He broke off, pulling back slightly to look down at the man spread out beneath him. Gendry was breathing heavily and his eyes were hooded with passion. His mouth was red from kissing and he had dark bite marks trailing their way down his neck and body. He looked like the most amazing thing Jon had ever seen. Jon couldn’t believe that for once things were going right for him and that he was allowed to have this happiness. Some of his thoughts must have shown in his face because Gendry reached up to cup his cheek, rubbing his thumb gently over Jon’s bottom lip.  
‘I really …’ he whispered, looking Jon in the eyes. ‘I really want you in me.’  
Jon felt the breath shudder out of him and he bent down to recapture Gendry’s mouth in a deep kiss. Gendry kissed him back, tongue sliding against his before he broke off and half rolled, reaching for his bedside table. He passed Jon a bottle of lube and a condom. Jon’s heart beat faster as he put it on, kneeling between Gendry’s spread legs. Then he looked down, bottle of lube gripped in his hand. Gendry sensed his uncertainty.  
‘It’s easy,’ he said with a gently smile. ‘Just use plenty of that and go slow.’ He grabbed a pillow to put under his hips and Jon slicked some of the lube onto his fingers. Then he reached down, between Gendry’s legs, rubbing at him gently until he found the spot that made Gendry moan and suck in his breath. He pulled his hand back, slicking himself with more lube, then took his cock in hand, the other hand planted near Gendry’s shoulder. He glanced at Gendry as he lined himself up against him. The other man was biting down on his bottom lip and his eyes, when they met Jon’s, were dark with wanting.  
He pushed slowly forward, the sensation as he entered the other man taking his breath away in a hiss of pleasure. He was so tight, so hot. Glancing up, he saw that Gendry’s eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. Jon had to stop himself from thrusting in hard, burying himself to the hilt. He kept his slow, slick slide. Eventually his hips met Gendry’s arse and he gasped at the overwhelming pleasure of the feeling of being buried inside this man. He paused there, watching the other man’s face. In a few moments, Gendry’s eyes opened and he met Jon’s. His look was intense with a feeling Jon couldn’t name but it resonated back in him.  
Gendry reached up to pull him down into a kiss, then he murmured against his mouth, ‘move.’  
Jon did, shuddering as he pulled out and then slid back in, the tight, hot heat wrapping around him. Gendry pushed down against Jon as he did so, and Jon continued, pulling in and out, shoulder and back muscles clenching as he drove himself slowly into the other man. Gendry was moaning underneath him again. He reached around to grab Jon’s arse, his legs tangled around the backs of Jon’s. At Jon’s next thrust, Gendry pulled him hard against his body. Jon grunted at the sensation and bent down to kiss him again. Their kiss got deeper, and faster as Jon started to pick up the speed and pressure of his thrusts. Gendry’s hands were at his hips, urging him on, encouraging him to bury himself.

Jon moaned above the other man, ‘you feel amazing,’ he gasped.  
‘So do you,’ Gendry assured him, voice rough. Then he reached down between them to grab his hard, leaking cock. At the sight, Jon picked up speed, his breath panting as he pushed into the other man. Gendry rubbed himself, gasping out Jon’s name. The speed and intensity built for both of them. They kissed messily, each one murmuring the other’s name, moans and gasps blending together into a sound that drove each of them higher. Finally Jon couldn’t restrain himself any longer, he thrust forward again into the man underneath him. Gendry clenched against him and Jon cried out, his hips jerking as he came harder than he ever had in his life. Moments later, Gendry joined him, his hand slowing as his release spilled over them both. Jon shuddered his way through the last of his orgasm, then collapsed on top of Gendry. The other man kissed him messily on the shoulder and then lay back, just as spent. ‘That was amazing,’ he panted.  
‘That was the best - I’ve ever,’ Jon agreed breathlessly.

Eventually, Jon rolled off him, reaching for some wipes that were on the bedside table. He cleaned them both up, neither speaking much, still basking in the glow. They lay in bed, Gendry’s head resting on Jon’s chest as they both came down from the high of their mutual release. Gendry was running his hand up and down Jon’s body and Jon’s eyes had drifted shut as he felt himself go boneless with the intensity of what he’d just experienced.  
Gendry traced his fingers along the tattoo of a large, stylised wolf’s head decorating Jon’s ribs and curving around to his back. It was beautiful work, the nobility and pride of the beast showing through.  
‘This is beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘Does it mean anything?’  
Jon grunted sleepily, ‘what? Oh, the tattoo. It’s a symbol for the … group I ride with.’ Just like that, the mood changed. Gendry’s fingers stopped moving and he propped himself up onto one elbow to look down at Jon.  
‘When you say your ride with a ‘group’ … are you telling me you’re in a biker gang?’  
Jon tensed, opening his eyes to look up at Gendry but not saying anything. Gendry barked out a short, hard laugh.  
‘Of course you are. Fuck. Your sister too?’  
Jon nodded, and pushed himself up on to one elbow so he could look Gendry in the face.  
‘Is that … a problem?’ he asked quietly.  
Gendry laughed again, but it wasn’t a happy sound. He sat up fully and moved back in the bed, drawing up the sheets to cover his lap.  
‘A problem? Let’s see, only if you think all members of biker gangs are lying, cheating scum … then yeah, maybe it’s a problem.’

Jon just stared at him, feeling like he'd been punched in the guts. All of the warm, contented feelings from moment before turning to ice inside him. Then he sat up as well, temper flaring.  
‘Are you fucking serious right now?’ he asked.  
Gendry stared back at him, his face a picture of anger and disgust. The last hurt Jon the most. ‘Tell me you’re not part of a group of thugs that rides around taking what they want, when they want it and not giving a damn who gets hurt along the way. EVERY time that bunch of arseholes with the lions all over them rides through town someone gets hurt, something gets stolen, someone gets pregnant. I've had my shop looted so many times I barely bother to lock it anymore. Biker gangs are a fucking disease that needs to be wiped out. ’  
The words were like bullets and Jon felt their impact deep inside himself.  
’You don’t know shit about me and my family. We are _nothing_ like that,’ he growled. Gendry raised an eyebrow at him, snorting. 'Yeah I bet my dear old Dad told my mum that too before he fucked her over for life.' Jon stared at him, unable to believe what was coming out of his mouth, that he had judged this man so wrong. He pushed his way out of the bed and grabbing his jeans from the floor. He pulled them on roughly and cast about for his shirt.  
‘Where’s my fucking shirt?’ he spat.  
‘How should I know?’ Gendry bit back. ‘Why don’t you just take one of mine. You can keep it as a trophy of the guy you banged in Blackwater.’ He dropped his eyes to the bed with those words, suddenly looking a lot smaller and more vulnerable.  
‘What?’ Jon said, stopping his search. ‘I’m not - do you really think I’m that kind of guy?’ he asked.  
‘How should I know?’ Gendry muttered, ‘I barely know you and I fell straight into bed with you.’ He laughed again darkly, glancing up a Jon and then back down at his hands. ‘I spend all these years thinking my mum was an idiot for taking a tumble with some random biker … and here’s me, doing the exact same thing at the first opportunity.’ He drew his knees up to his chest and bent his head down on to them.  
‘Close the door on your way out,’ he said, voice muffled. Jon stared at him, torn between anger and confusion and wanting to get back into bed with him and comfort him. He took a step towards the bed, raising one hand, ‘Gen-‘ he started softly. Gendry raised his face and his anguished look stopped Jon in his tracks.  
‘Get. The Fuck. Out of my house,’ the mechanic spat at him.  
Jon stood for a moment, undecided and then sighed, shoulders slumping. He pulled a shirt from the floor, not caring whose it was, pulled it roughly over his head and left, closing the door softly behind him.

\-------

Arya burst into his room the next morning, pulling the covers off him and jolting him awake. An almost empty bottle of whisky clanked to the floor near her feet and she looked down at it, face hardening.  
'What have you done?' she demanded.  
'Huh?' Jon said, blinking up at her, groggy with sleep, a dull pain beginning to form behind his eyes.  
She held her phone up in his face. He squinted at the texts on the screen. 

Gendry: Your brother's bike is ready. 

Gendry: And tell him I don't want his dirty money. 

Arya looked at him. 'Why is Gendry texting _me_ to say _your_ bike is ready? And what is he talking about dirty money?'  
Jon groaned and closed his eyes, pulling a pillow up to his chest and wrapping his arms around it.  
'I didn't do anything,' he muttered bitterly.  
She snorted. 'Well clearly something has changed.'  
Jon looked up at her with a glare. 'Fine. We fucked and then he told me I was lying cheating scum and I left. You happy now?'  
She gaped at him, 'why would he say that?'  
'How should I know,' Jon sighed, his anger fading. 'Apparently he has a problem with bikers. I think his dad was one. Road through one day and knocked his mum up. Plus this territory belongs to the Debt Collectors and ... they don't treat it very well.' Understanding flooded Arya's face.  
'Oh J,' she said, looking at him with sympathy in her eyes.  
'Whatever,' Jon muttered into his pillow. 'It was never going to last anyway.'  
Arya didn’t say anything for a long moment and Jon hoped she would just leave. Then she sat on the bed beside him, reaching out a hand to rub gently at his shoulder.  
‘You should talk to him,’ she said softly.  
Jon grimaced. ‘He made it _very_ clear last night that he doesn’t want anything to do with me.’  
‘I’m sure he didn’t-‘  
‘Leave it Arya,’ Jon snarled at his sister. It was anger or tears and he didn’t want tears. Not in front of Arya anway.  
‘Okay,’ she said soothingly. ‘Are you going to pick up your bike?’  
He looked up to meet her eyes, his own full of pain. ‘I can’t,’ he whispered. ‘I - I can’t see him again.’ Arya looked at him for a long moment then nodded. ‘Fine. But you need to be ready to go when I get back.’ She stooped to pick up the whisky bottle, taking it back into her room with her.

He stumbled through his shower, threw a few things roughly into his bags and struggled to clear his head. He felt like he was suffocating, memories of the last few days - laughter, tension, friendship, passion, pain - all blurring together in his mind. It wasn’t until he was far out of town, the open road ahead and behind him, that he felt like he could breathe again. He focussed on clearing his mind, pushing it all away, pushing it down into the place where all the other messy, dark, painful memories were.

Finally it worked and he could focus on just the road, the wind, the bike. But it felt like a hollow victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!!


	12. Chapter 12

Arya (earlier that day)

'What the fuck is your problem?' she demanded, the moment she laid eyes on the mechanic. He'd left Ice standing in the doorway of the workshop, keys on the tank, clearly expecting it would be picked up without a conversation.  
He looked around at her, face defensive. 'I have nothing to say to you.'  
Arya snorted, 'well that's too bad, because I have quite a few things to say to you.' She stepped closer to him, glaring up into his face.  
'You had no right to say that shit to Jon. We are _nothing_ like those Debt Collector scum,' she said, lip curling. 'I get it that things are bad here but that's not how it is everywhere. My family has honour. My father kept the peace. He made sure that what came into our territory made money that went back into the region. We kept the Northern gangs under control, we kept things balanced. We dealt justice when people stepped out of line. My brother Robb is doing the same.'

Gendry looked at her, disbelief written all over his face. 'Oh, so you only deal good drugs and bring in good weapons, not those bad ones that destroy people's lives.' Sarcasm was written all over him.  
'It's more complicated than that,' Arya huffed angrily. 'This shit happens. It always has. It always will. In the North we make it happen in a way that does the least harm to the people.'  
Gendry laughed, 'keep telling yourself that. I live in a town that constantly sees the _harm_ that your people cause to everyone else who's just trying to live their life.'  
'THAT'S WHAT I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU, YOU IDIOT! THEY'RE NOT _OUR_ PEOPLE!' she yelled angrily. 'You can't judge someone based on the actions of someone else. The Debt Collectors are so far out of line they can't see it from where they are. They deal in people, for fucks sake, women and children,' she shuddered and looked Gendry in the eye. 'Up North that sort of shit would have you tried and executed. We keep the peace Gendry, we do what's best for everybody. We're even - '  
Then she broke off, not willing to go into details about the next week with someone who clearly didn't trust her.  
He looked at her, hearing what she was saying but still unconvinced and she sighed, some of her anger draining away. She wracked her brain for a way to get through to him. She had to try, for Jon's sake. 

'Jon said your dad was in a gang?' she asked, surprising him. 'Do you know anything about him?'  
Gendry looked at her for a moment, as if deciding whether he wanted to cut and run from the conversation. Then he spoke.  
'He was some arsehole everyone called 'the King' if you can believe that,' he said with a sneer.  
Arya' eyes widened in surprise at the name, surely not. 'Did your mum ever tell you what he looked like?'  
Gendry looked down at her, suspicious.  
'Big guy, black hair, liked to have fun. Had some stupid sigil on his leathers, like he was mocking the group he rode with.'  
'A golden lion's head with the horns of a stag?' Arya asked quietly.  
Gendry's look sharpened, 'that's it. You know him?'  
'Knew. He's dead. His wife killed him a bit over ten years ago. His name was Robert Baratheon and he was my dad's best friend.'  
Gendry looked a little shell shocked at this information - that his father had a name at last, and that he was dead many years past.  
Arya continued, 'he was the leader of the Debt Collectors, before they went bad, before they became what they are now.'  
Gendry just stared at her, as the information sunk in. His emotions battled across his face.  
'You're basically biker royalty,' she snorted at him. 'That's ironic. Anyway, aren't you in the wrong line of work if you hate bikers so much?' Arya said, gesturing around the workshop to the many motorbikes littering the room.  
Gendry looked like he had been slammed with too much information too quickly but he shrugged. 'This shop is too small for anyone from a big gang to worry about. They all have their shops in the Landing and the bigger towns. You oughta know. Those places where you get the special deals and the under the table trades.'  
Arya glared at him, but she didn't say anything.  
Gendry continued as if that proved his point. 'People who come in here love bikes and love riding, just like me. Some of them are local, some of them are passing through. You don't have to be a criminal to ride a motorbike.'  
The last comment lacked the same sting of his earlier words, as if she was wearing down his resolve, battering against the years of prejudice he'd built up. 

Arya smiled to herself, 'Do you have any idea how hard it was for Jon to open up to you?' she asked, changing tack. 'Do you know how many other people he's been with?' There was a pause as Gendry watched her, face unreadable.  
'One, Gendry. He's been with one other person apart from you. And he fell hard for her. He almost gave up everything for her. But in the end she broke his heart and she dumped him because he wasn't wild enough for her.'  
She decided that was enough. If he wasn't willing to change his mind, she never would.  
'If you don't want to be with him, fine. But you can't end it like this. You can't leave him thinking he wasn't enough again, that he didn't deserve to be loved ... it will destroy him,' she finished. 

Gendry looked at her, his resolve weakening. He balanced what he knew of Jon, what he had come to know of him over the past week, against everything he knew of his kind. 

His struggle was written across his face and then he sighed, 'I can't - I can't be a part of that life,' he said, turning away. 'It's better for both of us this way.'

'You're a coward,' Arya said, disappointment in her face. 'If you change your mind we'll be in the Landing until mid next week, staying down near the docks in a place called Flea Bottom.' She looked him directly in the eye, 'If you turn up it better be to let him down gently. If you hurt my brother again, you won't make it back home,' she said, her eyes cold and hard. She turned and walked away from him, starting up the bike with a quick kick. 

Gendry watched her go with troubled eyes, and it was a long time before he turned back to his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Les430 for poking me to fill in some character holes :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the (patchy) glory that is my reimagining of all the major Westeros Houses as biker gangs!
> 
> I hope the names or symbols weren't too obscure for some.
> 
> Comments absolutely make my day btw ... happy for advice on making things better too :)

Arya  
It was almost lunchtime when they pulled out of Blackwater Bay. By the time she’d got Gendry’s message, realised something was wrong, woken Jon from his drunken stupor and gone over to bang some sense into Gendry’s head, half the day had passed. It was a full day’s ride to the Landing and Arya resigned herself to a late night.  
Jon hadn’t wanted to talk to her at all when she got back from the Foundry. He’d grunted his thanks as she’d handed him the keys, loaded his gear back onto the bike and started it straight up.  
She tried not to think too much about the whole situation as they rode out of the sleepy little town. What was done was done, now she just had to see what pieces she could pick up.

They rode for a few hours, eventually reaching a roadside fuel stop. Arya waved Jon in and he turned his bike. They both fuelled up, Jon pushing his bike off to a parking stop and disappearing inside the store. He came back with two full bottles of golden liquid and Arya frowned at him.  
‘Food, maybe J?’  
He ignored her, uncapping one and taking a deep swig before filling the silver flask he carried around with himself. Then he slipped the bottles into his saddlebag and kicked his bike back into life.  
‘For fucks sake,’ she muttered under her breath, before going into the store herself. She heard Jon pull out onto the highway again and bought herself a sandwich, leaning against her bike outside to eat it. It wasn’t like she couldn’t catch him again.

They rode hard that day and it was going on one in the morning when they rumbled up to a huge warehouse with Kraken Enterprises written on the side. The words lit up as their headlights caught them and from the shadows stepped six leather-clad men. Arya flipped her visor up to allow them to get a look at her and the roller door was pulled up with a nod to them to keep moving. They pulled inside a dark space and were waved off to the side. Each of them turned their bikes off and reached for their helmets. It was only a moment later when Robb stepped up to them, features hazy in the dull light.  
He pulled Arya into a hug and slapped Jon on the back. ‘I thought you two had forgotten all about us,’ he joked, ‘seduced by the quiet beach life.’ Arya forced a grin and Jon’s face clouded. Robb looked from one to the other, clearly wanting to probe more. Then he said, ‘Come, I’ll show you where you can sleep. We’ve got people spread out all over this place and it’s best if you stay close by us for tonight.’  
He directed them into a doorway near where they’d come in. They entered a smaller room that had mattresses spread out across the floor, sleeping bodies occupying them.  
‘I left you a couple in the corner,’ he said quietly, waving them over. ‘I’ll catch you up tomorrow.’  
Arya turned to say something to Jon, but he was already half way to the bed, leather jacket slipping from his shoulders. He kicked his boots off as she watched and climbed onto a mattress, pulling a blanket up over himself and facing the wall. Ghost climbed up beside him, lying against Jon’s back and looking out over the room of sleeping people.  
Arya sighed, and then made her own way to bed.

\------

When she woke the next morning, the mattress beside hers was empty, the blanket pushed into a bundle at the foot. Arya glanced at it. Fine. If Jon needed space then she’d give it to him. She ventured into the main part of the warehouse. It was a confusing mess of men and women walking around, gathered over caches of weapons, sitting in circles to drink and dice. Here and there fires had been lit in drums, and there was someone cooking over one of them. She looked around at the people and saw Krakens, with tentacles tattooed in twists up their necks, and down their arms. Dread Riders who looked like their fingers, forearms or chests had been flayed away to reveal the bone. Each one of them had the flayed man spreadeagled on the back of their necks like a blood-red brand. The Chaingang were gathered around Greatjon Umber in one corner as he told some uproariously loud story and guzzled from a bottle. There were a few big, hulking members of Equitem Ursi - the bear riders - sitting near them, and Arya nodded to Lyanna Mormont as she caught her eye. She hadn’t had a lot to do with Lyanna, but what she knew of her, she respected. She’d been pushed to the head of the Ursi young, but she hadn’t flinched at anything asked of her. 

As she walked around the huge space, Arya glanced across the array of bikes spread out along the edges of the warehouse. One caught her eye, an old, black chopper. But it wasn’t just the black tank that caught her eye, the whole machine was black, right down to the spokes of the wheels. Even the headlight’s reflector was coloured a dull black. _Surely not_ , she thought, scanning around the room. One of the _Watchmen_ was here? This was getting serious. Then she saw him across a group of people, talking to some young men that looked like they’d barely started shaving, let alone were old enough to ride into this.  
His shoulder length brown hair and scruffy beard were enough for her to recognise him, but his all-black leathers and the small tattoo of a crow in flight under his eye left no doubt.  
Arya started out towards him, breaking into a grin as she approached him.  
‘Yoren,’ she greeted. He looked up and smiled in return.  
‘Well met, lad,’ he said warmly. Arya’s smile widened. Every time she saw Yoren he reminded her of the time she’d dressed as a boy and run away from home. It wasn’t long after her dad had been killed and everything had stopped making sense. He’d taken her into his band for a while, just long enough to give her a taste for it and see what she was made of, then he’d returned her home to Winterfell.

‘I didn’t think you’d be a part of this,’ she said, as she turned to gaze out over the warehouse.  
‘Officially I’m not, lad. I’m taking this lot back up North with me,’ he said, indicating the four young men standing around behind him. ‘Unofficially though, if I happened to get caught up in the activities. Well, I’d have to defend myself of course …’  
Arya snorted, ‘Of course.’ Yoren had never been the type to back down from a fight. And despite the Watchmen's neutrality, he'd never been fond of the Debt Collectors. 

Then she sobered, ‘what do you think our chances are?’ she asked, glancing across at him.  
He was quiet for a moment, looking around. ‘You have five gangs gathered here in force. There’s probably around two hundred riders, most of them excellent fighters. I think it will come down to a question of how many the Debt Collectors bring with them to collect this big shipment … and whether they have wind of what you have planned for them.’  
Arya nodded, that was basically what she had been thinking. It could go either way … but it wasn’t a battle they could afford to walk away from. This was their chance to cut the head off the Debt Collector snake once and for all. If they could take out Cersie, the whole operation would fall apart.  
‘I swore I saw a man with thorns tattooed across his knuckles on my way in the other day,’ Yoren continued. ‘If they’ve called in the Black Roses, or that bastard Randyll Tarly and his Huntsmen … well it could be a whole other kettle of fish,’ he finished grimly.  
She nodded in reply.  
Yoren shrugged, ’Anyway lad, let’s talk of better things.’

Arya circulated around for the day, catching up with people she’d ridden with in the past, or met when they came through Winterfell to report to her father or brother. She ate lunch with some of the Direwolves, telling Mikken about Blackwater Bay.  
‘Sounds like you two had a right old time, relaxing at the beach while we’ve been cooped up here in this tin shed.’  
Arya looked around and she had to agree. Already she was feeling antsy at being stuck inside and she’d only been here half a day.  
‘Is Robb letting no one go out?’ she asked.  
’Nah he puts a few scouts out each night. Thems got the least obvious tattoos or the most common bikes. That rules you out girly,’ he said, nudging her with a laugh.  
Arya grimaced, he was right. The Y2K was _not_ the sort of bike you saw every day.  
‘Did you bring a decent load of ammo down with you?’ she asked of the man who crafted Winterfell’s weapons and oversaw the ammunition supply across the North.  
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, ‘We brought a lot, but not as much as I wanted to. Supply of sulphur and saltpetre has been limited since that Dracarys lot settled in at Dragonstone. We’re not getting anywhere near the shipments of raw materials we usually do. Only good news in that is that I’ve heard the South isn’t getting much either. So unless the Debt Collectors have been stockpiling for a rainy day, this fight might be less about bullets and more about blades.’  
Arya felt a stab of excitement at that. She always preferred when a fight came down to knives or swords. Guns had their place but they were only good as long as you could source bullets for them. Steel though, steel never let you down.  
They chatted a while longer, catching up with the news and politics of the massing of forces.  
‘Robb’s doing well to keep it under control,’ Mikken said, ‘but there’s already been a few tussles. It’s not normal for this many riders from different gangs to be crammed together in the one space for so long. If we don’t move out soon, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a proper blow up.’  
Arya nodded, she’d noticed the tension as she moved around the warehouse that day. The cold, pale eyes of Roose Bolton had watched over the entire warehouse as he sat on a self-made throne of steel crates, surrounded by Dread Riders. That man had always made her skin creep. She didn’t trust him. The Krakens all seemed uncomfortable. They always had been more pirates than bikers, and being on the land made them ill at ease. Some of them were definitely spoiling for a fight, glaring at anyone that came too near. She’d spotted Theon more than once, lurking around the edges of a group of Krakens, never quite included in the conversation. 

Mikken waved at someone and Arya looked around with a smile as Robb walked across to them, nodding at the smith. She stood to join him, giving Mikken a quick wave goodbye, and the two of them took a turn around the room.  
‘How’s everything going?’ she asked him, conscious of the Mikken's words moments before.  
Robb rubbed a hand through his curly hair, looking across at her. ‘I’ve got them under control for now. It all comes down to Umber and Bolton and Lyanna. If I can keep them tight with me, they can keep their people in line. The Krakens … that’s anyone’s guess. I think they’re only here because we’re in their territory.’ He sighed, ‘I wish father was here, people followed him without question.’  
Arya nudged him gently, ‘I miss him too, Robb, but you’re just as good a leader as he was. These people wouldn’t all be here if it wasn’t for you. We wouldn’t have this chance to finally end it if it wasn’t for you.’  
Robb nodded and took a deep breath, changing the subject. ‘How are you? What’s going on with Jon? I haven’t seen him all day.’  
With a start, Arya realised that she hadn’t seen their brother all day either.  
‘I’m good. Jon … will be,’ she said, debating how much to say. ‘He … met someone in Blackwater, and it didn’t end well. He’s - he just needs a bit of time.’  
Robb looked at her and she knew he was remembering the months after Ygritte had broken it off with Jon, the alcohol-fuelled darkness he’d sunk himself into. He nodded his head.  
‘Make sure he’s okay for Monday night,’ he said. ‘We can’t have him in the fight if his head’s not together. And I need him there. I need you both there with me.’  
Arya smiled at him, ‘he’ll be fine. I’ll go and see how he’s doing now.’

She began walking around the warehouse again, scanning for her brother’s messy black hair. As she looked, a tingle of worry began to worm its way into her. He wasn’t in any of the main groups, he wasn’t where they’d slept the night before. Then she checked his bike. Ice was where they’d left it when they came in, so at least he hadn’t ridden off … but Ghost was laid out beside the bike, head on his paws and his eyes looked sad. Jon hardly ever told Ghost to stay away. She wracked her brains trying to think where her brother could be, trying to put herself in his head.  
Then it occurred to her and she felt like an idiot. Jon would be on the warehouse roof. He always went to high places when he was feeling bad and wanted to make himself feel worse. Not for the first time she gritted her teeth at his pigheadedness. What had happened to Bran had not been Jon's fault. That bastard Jaime Lannister had pushed him out the warehouse window for witnessing an illegal slave trade. The Lannisters were to blame, always the Lannisters. She didn't know why Jon wouldn't let it go. Yes, he'd told Bran to get out from underfoot and go play somewhere else, because he wanted to make a move on Jeyne Poole, but he couldn't have known their brother would disappear into town to roam around on the old buildings he loved to climb so much.  
Huffing, Arya climbed the steel staircase to the roof of the warehouse. She pushed the door open, squinting in the bright light. Sure enough, there was Jon, sitting on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling over the side, half empty bottle in his hand.  
She walked slowly over to him, not wanting to startle him, but he didn't look up, just gazed out over the warehouses and docks.  
'Hey,' she said softly, taking a seat near him, but back from the edge.  
He looked over and she felt her heart sink. Pain was written across his face and his eyes looked haunted. She hadn't seen him look this bad in ... a long time.  
'You know that just makes it worse,' she said, indicating the bottle.  
He clutched it closer to himself, protectively.  
'If you've come up here to lecture me, you’re wasting your breath,’ he said tonelessly.  
‘No lectures J. Just came to see how you were doing and maybe sit with you a while.’  
Jon didn’t reply, turning his gaze back out over the horizon. With a stab Arya realised he was looking back in the direction of Blackwater Bay.  
They sat in silence for a long time, Jon taking periodic sips from his bottle, his attention drawn more and more back to Arya, sitting placidly on the roof. Finally he broke the silence.  
‘Did you talk to … him … when you picked up my bike?’ His voice was quiet, and carefully neutral.  
‘If by talk you mean I told him he was being a prejudiced, pigheaded idiot, then yeah, we talked.’ Jon didn’t say anything and Arya went on.  
‘He - I don’t know J. He has a lot of hate and some of it is for good reason -‘ Jon tensed up and Arya rushed on. ‘Not that he had _any_ right to say what he did to you. Just if his only experience with bikers is the Lannisters, they basically are scum that need to be wiped off the face of the earth.’  
She sighed, wanting to pick her words carefully. ‘He just needs time I think. Time to think about what he’s know in the past and compare it to what he knows of you and to come to the obvious answer - you’re nothing like that. You’re a good person who does things for the right reasons.’ The look of bitter disbelief on Jon’s face showed that he didn’t think Gendry would change his mind with time and that he didn’t particularly think he was a good person either. Arya felt like grabbing him and shaking him, showing him all the good he had done for their family. But she knew that when he was like this he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see anything except his problems and his failures.  
‘He won’t come back,’ Jon said, casting his eyes down. ‘He doesn’t want me now, and he never will. You didn’t see his face when he told me to get out. He _hates_ me Arya.’ His voice caught and Arya felt her heart clench.  
‘Come here,’ she said, holding out her arms. Jon looked at her for a long moment, then crawled across to her. He sat beside her and laid his head on her shoulder. Arya brought her hand up to stroke his hair, slowly and soothingly.  
‘It will all work out J,’ she murmured. ‘One way or another, it will work out.’  
They sat like that until the sun was long gone from the sky.


	14. Chapter 14

**Jon (Sunday)**  
He woke late in the morning, but the idea of moving from the mattress was too much effort. Out in the main warehouse, he could hear voices, activity, but none of it held much interest. Ghost was a warm, steady presence at his back, but he couldn’t draw much comfort from him either. Right now it was just pain. He knew in some ways he was over reacting - he had know the man less than a week, yes they had fucked - _made love_ , a voice whispered in his mind - but in a lot of ways they barely knew each other. So what if talking to him was easy. So what if they idea of riding down the road side by side gave him a thrill of exhilaration. So what if being with him just felt so damn right. Jon curled around himself and tried to push the thoughts away. Gendry was gone and he just needed to deal with that fact.  
Behind him, he felt Ghost move as he looked up, and Jon looked back over his shoulder to see Robb approaching. He groaned but shifted until he was sitting on the mattress, leaning against the wall. Robb lowered himself to the mattress beside him, sitting close enough that their shoulders were touching.  
For a few moments they didn’t speak, and then Robb said softly, ‘I miss Talisa all the time. Everything is easier when she’s around me. I feel calmer, I can think better, she just grounds me. If little Eddard wasn’t still so young, she’d be here.’  
Jon looked over at him. He knew how hard it was for his brother to be without his wife. The two of them were inseparable.  
’Things were rocky at first - you weren’t around to see it, but we used to fight like cats and dogs. I’m sure she thought I was a pompous idiot.’  
Jon smiled softly. His sister-in-law had often told him about her first impressions of the swaggering, leather-clad Direwolves leader.  
‘She didn’t come from this life - you remember? She was a nurse originally. But eventually, she came to see what what we did was noble. It was for a reason. It led to less killing, not more.’  
Robb sighed, ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is that this person might come to see the same thing. All you can do is hope. This, now, what you’re doing. It’s not helping Jon. You know it’s not.’

He looked over at Jon with a smile. ‘Do me a favour, brother? Come out and keep an eye on Arya? That creeper Ramsay Snow has been sniffing after her all day. If someone doesn’t punch him in the face soon she’ll probably cut off his cock and feed it to him.’  
Jon snorted softly despite himself.  
‘I’d lay him out with pleasure … but there is the alliance to think of, and I don’t want that bloody Bolton to have any reason to start things up.’  
Jon sighed and nodded, thinking over what his brother had said. He knew Robb was right. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ll be out soon … thanks Robb.’  
Robb pushed himself to his feet, looking back down. ‘Any time Jon. Don’t wait too long, hey. I’m going to do my rousing speech to the troops.’ He tipped Jon a wink and left the room.

Jon sat for a while longer, gathering himself, pushing away all thoughts of loneliness and pain and loss. His brother needed him. His sister needed him. Duty to his family came before everything. He squared his shoulders, raised his head and headed out. Most people were gathered around the corner of the room where the Dread Riders had set up their makeshift throne for Roose Bolton. Robb was standing on it, speaking to the assembled group.

‘… and a shipment of two to three hundred young women. They call them the brides. They're kidnapped from their home and brought here for forced prostitution.'  
'Well,' called out one voice from across the room, 'we'll just have to disrupt their wedding celebrations then, won't we.' There was a huge cheer across the room and Robb grinned savagely at them all.  
‘Now,’ he said. ‘This is how we’re going to do it …’

 

 **Gendry (Friday)**  
He was useless at work that day. All day memories and fragments of conversations kept whirling around in his head.

Jon’s words to him and the hopeful, needy look on his face, _I haven't wanted anything as much as that in ... a long time_  
His offer to bring Gendry into his home, and his life. A completely different light on it now what he knew what he did, _Maybe I could show you around_  
The joy of tearing down the road on a bike with him.  
The shared understanding of growing up without a parent.  
The comfortableness of working side by side.

The last words he’d said to him _Get. The Fuck. Out of my house._

Gendry slept badly that night. The next afternoon he was waiting for Hot Pie when he came home from work.  
‘Can you look into something for me?’ he asked his housemate.  
‘Sure. What?’  
‘Can you find out everything you can about biker gangs in the North, especially a gang that has a wolf or a wolf’s head as their symbol?’  
Hot Pie looked at him oddly, but shrugged. ‘Sure. I haven’t had a caffeine fuelled all-nighter in a while and I don’t have to work tomorrow … could be fun.’

It was late Sunday before Hot Pie emerged from his room, looking like he’d been up all night and fallen asleep on his keyboard. He made himself a coffee and called Gendry in to his computer.  
‘Okay, I think I found what you’re looking for. There’s just some basic shit on the internet, what all the gang names are, articles about the latest shootout or whatever. Boring stuff. So I dived into the darknet to see what I could fine and damn, this thing is a treasure trove of gang activity. There are so many meet ups for weapons, drugs … people. Do you know there’s a massive market for human trafficking? It’s crazy. Anyway,’ he paused for a breath. ‘I found a heap of stuff. The Direwolves - the Starks - they’re Jon and Arry’s family, aren’t they?’  
Gendry looked at him in surprise, ‘How did you figure that out?'  
Hot Pie clicked for a few moment then a black screen of headshots came up with the words ‘Kill Count’ written across the top in thick red text. In the bottom corner of the screen was unmistakably Arya’s face. Her hair braided up on one side, the undercut shaved away, piercings glinting in her ears and a look on her face that was … chilling. Gendry suddenly remembered her parting comment to him _‘If you hurt my brother again, you won't make it back home’._

‘What the hell is this?’ he asked, looking at the faces spread across the screen. Each one had a name under it, a gang name and two counts: ‘Bodies:’ and ‘Points:’  
‘I’m pretty sure it’s a betting ring. All of these people belong to different gangs and the bodies score is how many people they’ve killed. The points score is like bonuses for difficulty I think.’  
Gendry looked at Arya’s profile. The name under her image read Nymeria: Direwolves and her body count was ten, which put her last on the screen of headshots, but her difficulty score was off the chart. She was beating the top name by fifty points.  
‘Is this for real?’ Gendry asked, gesturing at the screen and trying to reconcile what he knew of the fun-loving friendly young woman who’d danced with him and eaten dinner at his table, with this person who had … killed people.  
Hot Pie nodded. ‘I think she’s some sort of assassin for her family. If you click here,’ he demonstrated, ‘it comes up with the profiles of the people killed - every one has to be verified to be added to the list. Have a look at some of these guys, they’re all really bad news. This guy was just called ‘Biter’ - he killed a bunch of women, raped them and then … ate them. It’s really fucked up. And this guy … he was called the Tickler. He tortured and killed this huge number of people in the North apparently, before she killed him.’

Gendry looked at him, ‘Are you approving of her killing people?’  
Hot Pie shrugged, ‘If what’s written here is true … every single one of these people was beyond redemption. What they had done means they deserved to die. You know the law means shit around here. There’s no one who has the power to keep these bastards in line. I was up all night reading about this stuff, and I think, in the North, they do it differently. This Direwolf gang - the are the law.’  
Gendry shrugged, ‘So they’re the biggest thugs, so what?’  
‘No,’ Hot Pie said, shaking his head, ‘That’s the point. They aren’t thugs. The Stark family has been running that gang for the last sixty years or so. Over that time they’ve united a whole bunch of other gangs under their colours. They’ve made deals and alliances and set up a system of rules. People who break those rules get tried and executed. No exceptions. It’s all here,’ he said, clicking around to various window.  
‘They’ve cleaned the drug trade right out of the North. You can barely find Shade of the Evening up there. There’s a few sites on here seeking sellers and offering massive prices. Even Sourleaf isn’t that common.’ He paused to take a deep drink from the large coffee mug beside him.  
‘And see here, even guns are tightly controlled. There’s this guy in Winterfell - their base - called the WeaponsMaster, and he controls the entire ammunition supply throughout the North. That’s how they keep things under control.’  
Gendry looked at it, not understanding, ‘So if they don’t sell drugs and they don’t sell weapons and they don’t steal from people … how the hell do they get their money?  
‘That’s the thing,’ Hot Pie said. ‘All the cities and towns across the North pay a tax basically, like a protection tax. But the tax isn’t to protect them from the Direwolves and their people. It’s for the Northern gangs to protect the people from the drug trade, from the weapons trade … and from the Southern gangs. It’s ingenious really.’

Gendry looked at it, struggling to get his head around the concept. This gang, Arya’s gang … Jon’s gang, were basically the police, in a world that was unpoliced. If all this was true … they were the good guys, just like Arya had said. Jon’s words came floating back through his mind, _‘do you really think I’m that kind of guy?’_  
He started to feel sick, thinking about the way he’d reacted to both Arya … and Jon.  
‘Thanks, man,’ he muttered, turning to leave the room.  
‘Tell Arry hi when you see her,’ Hot Pie said to his back.  
Gendry turned to look over his shoulder, ’I’m not going to see her.’  
Hot Pie turned back to his computer with a snort, ‘Just tell her hi, and tell her now I know she has super assassin killer skills, I’m upping her difficulty level next time we play Mortal Combat.’  
Gendry stared at him, ’I can’t believe you’re so okay with all of this.’  
‘Dude,’ Hot Pie said seriously, leaning back in his chair and looking him in the eye. ‘I’ve seen bad guys. You’ve seen bad guys. Arry and Jon … they’re not bad guys. What did your mum used to say to you, “Stop being bull-headed Gendry, and look at what’s right in front of your face”, he mimicked in a high pitched voice.  
Gendry glared at him, but it didn’t hold much heat.  
‘Whatever,’ he muttered. ‘I’m going for a ride. I need to think.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lottie_emerald for the inspiration to write a Gendry POV. I think I probably needed it to get him to where he needs to be :)
> 
> Also I really love all your comments guys :) :) Thank you!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence and death.

**Monday night**  
   
Robb, Arya and Jon stood in a circle, heads together, arms around each other. Robb began the words they all tried to live by, 'We protect ourselves. We look after one another.' He paused, then said, 'This is for father.' They stood in silence for a moment, drawing strength from each other, then they stepped apart slightly and Arya looked her brothers in the eye.   
'If we get the chance, Cersei Lannister is mine. I owe her,' she said coldly. They both looked at her, each remembering the horrific description of their father's death - Arya being forced to witness it as Cersie stood to one side and gave the order to her executioner, Ilyn Payne.   
'She's yours,' Robb confirmed, and Jon nodded.   
'Besides,' she said, lightening the mood with wicked grin. 'I have some big money on my Kill Count score. I want to blow that jerk who calls himself the Hound out of the water. And Cersei is worth 1000 points.'  
Robb looked at her and laughed and Jon snorted, reaching out to ruffle her hair. She pushed him off, with a grin. 

'Let's do this,' Robb said. He strode back into the main room, checking his phone as he did so.  
‘Right!’ he yelled. ‘My scouts have confirmed that the ship has docked and they’ve begun unloading the cargo. There are about seventy or eighty Debt Collectors on site, which is basically their whole fighting force. Cersei Lannister has been sighted! We out number them by more than two to one.’  
There was a vicious rumble of anticipation from the assembled group as this.  
‘Remember the plan. The docks are a warren of shipping containers. There is no, one, clean approach. We spread out into a semi-circle and approach from all sides, pushing them back against the water and cutting off all escape. There will be no prisoners,’ he said grimly. Not one person in the room spoke out against that comment.  
‘Cover each other on the way in, take down as many as you can with bullets and then we'll be amongst them, hand to hand. It’s still light, so that will make things easier, while it lasts.’  
He looked around the assembled group of almost two hundred leather clad, tattoo covered bikers decked out in all manner of weapons. Every face was hungry for the fight.  
‘KILL THEM ALL!’ He shouted and the room roared back at him.

That roar soon turned into a deafening wall of sound as one by one, two hundred motorbikes rumbled into life. The thrum of so many engines inside the warehouse space sent a thrill of adrenaline through Jon. He felt his heart beat harder and his breath come quicker as he psyched himself up for the battle to come. A dark smile spread across his face. It was time to share the pain around. He threw his leg over his bike and Ghost jumped up behind him, his neck and chest covered by the thick, leather armour Jon had had made for him. He kicked his stand up and they rumbled out into the air.  
 

The massive group of riders pulled up at the edge of the stacks of shipping containers - men and women jumping from bikes, pulling out their weapons and running between the long, high rows. Jon and Arya stuck close together, hearing the beginnings of gunfire up ahead as the first of the riders reached the sentries. They moved from container to container, a few of the Direwolves behind them, glancing around corners, then running forward. Up ahead the shots became more frequent, until there was a hail of bullets tearing the air. The sound was amplified as shots ricochet off the steel containers.  
They rounded one corner and Jon ripped himself back as bullets came zinging past them. Taking a deep breath he jerked his head back around the corner and fired off a few quick shots. He heard a cry of pain and grinned savagely. Behind him he heard a noise and glanced up to see two men boosting Arya onto the roof of a container. She crept to the edge and shot in rapid succession. There was another cry of pain.  
'Move,' she called down. 'I'll cover you.'  
Jon turned to the riders behind him, to make sure they were with him, then yelled out 'Now!'  
He shot as he ran, as did the other riders and above them he heard Arya firing off shot after shot.  
The shooting from the men up the aisle from them had stuttered to a stop. One of the men with Jon peeled off in that direction and as Jon kept moving he heard two last, killing shots.  
Arya joined him moments later, grinning viciously, then they were at the edge of the containers where the space opened up into a big loading yard. 

Half a dozen containers were stacked near the edge of a huge freight ship, and a crane held one in mid air, rocking as though it had just been stopped.  
Surrounding the unloaded containers and using them as cover were about sixty men and women in the red and gold leathers of the Debt Collectors. But that wasn't what drew Jon's eye. Standing at the edge of the wharf was the huge, red three-wheeler Cersei was known to ride. She must be sheltering in among the containers too. He felt his heart beat harder and he bared his teeth in a silent growl.  
All around the edges of the open space he saw riders appearing, and then the shooting started, each side opening up on the other. There were cries of pain, men and women falling, blood flowing. Under it all he could hear the terrified screams of women and Jon realised the containers being used for shelter by the Collectors were the ones the trafficked women were in. He hoped they would withstand the rain of bullets as he continued to fire off shot after shot.  
Finally his magazine was empty and he dropped his gun, pulling his bastard half-sword from its scabbard on his back. All around him the gunfire was petering off, stuttering to a halt in some areas, as each side expended their ammunition. Some of Robb's forces charged out from the cover of the containers, the riders around them providing what cover they could. Shots came from in among the unloaded containers near the freight ship and Jon saw a few of their people fall, but the majority won through and Debt Collectors emerged from among the containers to engage them. Now the ring of steel and the thud of blades against bodies filled the air. 

At seeing their enemy occupied, the rest of the riders steamed forth into the centre of the docks, war cries shouting. Jon ran with them. Within moments, he was surrounded by a vicious battle as a dozen Debt Collector riders ran at the group he was with.  
He parried against one man, striking three, four times, then he saw and opening and swung his sword hard into his opponent's ribs. Blood erupted and the man fell back with a cry.  
Someone else came at him, as the battle flowed back and forth all around him. He moved with the fight. His opponent was skilled, focussed on every movement, his swings ringing against Jon's blade. Jon watched him as they fought, then feinted high and darted a slashing cut against the man's thigh as he tried to parry the feint. His opponent cried out, but swung wildly at him, forcing Jon back a step. His heel caught in something, a gap in the wood of the docks. He stumbled back, sword flying wide. The other man leapt forward with a shout, pushing Jon to the ground. He pulled a knife from his hip as he did so, striking down hard against Jon's neck. Jon threw his hands up as he hit the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He caught the man's arm, pushing against him as he struggled to pull air back into his lungs. 

The man was bearing down on Jon, teeth gritted as he forced the knife closer to his throat with both hands. Jon gasped for breath struggling to push back up. But he knew he couldn't keep it up, already the point of the blade was dipping lower. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ghost pull his head up from the throat of a dead man, muzzle bloody. He looked across the docks and saw Jon, taking off towards him at a run.   
With a grunt, the man on top of him shoved down and Jon knew Ghost was going to be too late.   
Then the head of his attacker imploded with a sharp crack, and the man was thrown off him, knife falling loosely from his fingers. Jon looked up, dazed. Gendry stood above him, blood spattering his face and a heavy iron bar gripped in both hands. He was breathing heavily, eyes fixed to the man on the ground, blood now pooling from the side of his head.   
Jon felt like his heart had stopped in his chest at the sight of the mechanic. He started to sit up and Gendry's eyes snapped to him. He reached down a hand and Jon grasped it, gratefully. They stepped back into the safety of the shipping containers, shielded from sight of the main fighting. Jon gasped from breath, adrenaline rocketing through him at the near miss.  
   
'You came back,' Jon said incredulously, eyes roaming over the other man's face. Taking in every detail of him. 'You just saved my life,' he said in wonder.  
'What the fuck is going on here?' Gendry asked, eyes wide, gesturing at the chaos of the docks. 'Is this some kind of gang war or something?'  
Jon pulled himself into the present, pushing away the hope that was flowering in him at Gendry's presence. He nodded grimly, getting his head in the game. 'That guy,' he said, poking his head around the edge of the container and pointing across at Ilyn Payne, who was swinging a huge broad sword, cutting people down left and right, 'shot our father in the head in front of Arya when she was nine.' He looked around quickly, spotting Jaime Lannister, his golden hair shining as he grappled hand to hand with a large blonde woman – he realised with a start that it was his step mother’s most trusted warrior - Brienne. 'That man pushed my brother Bran out the window of a warehouse when he was eleven. After that didn't kill him his sister sent a hit man to our house for him.'  
Finally he gestured at the pile of containers spread out amongst the thickest concentration of fighting. ‘And in those containers is a couple of hundred terrified women who have been stolen from their homes and are about to be sold into the worst misery you can imagine. We’re here to stop it. To stop all of it. Once and for all.’  
Gendry looked Jon in the eye, a long searching look.   
'I came back for you ... and I didn't expect this but I guess this is all part of it ... of making things safer for people ...' he said, 'What do we do?' Jon looked at him gratefully, his heart thumping painfully at the words. It wasn't the time. It wasn't the place but he couldn't help himself. He pulled the other man into a brief, fierce kiss that Gendry returned. The feel of Gendry's mouth on his, the other man's hands cupping his face made a part of him uncurl and open up again, the pain lessening. The kiss was over too soon. Jon was drawn back into the present by another few, sporadic gunshots.  
'Can you shoot?' he asked. Gendry shook his head. 'Right, stay with me then, and keep that bar handy.' Gendry glanced again at the dead man on the ground, a sick look on his face, but he squared his shoulders and nodded. Jon looked out over the battle, trying to see where he was most needed.  
   
Down closer to the water, Arya was fighting savagely, hand to hand, with another young woman. She was dressed in the red of the Debt Collectors and her shoulder-length blond hair flew in the air as she darted and twisted. Each of them bore two wickedly curved knives, and they danced and spun against each other, cutting and dodging almost too fast to follow.   
Jon spotted her and didn't even look to see if Gendry was following as he ran out from behind the container, dodging his way around the edge of the fighting, making his way for his sister. She was good, but even from here he could see the other woman was just that little bit better. Bit by bit, she was backing Arya up against the water.   
   
Nearby to Arya, there was a roar as a group of Debt Collectors rushed forward, breaking a blockade of crates that a group of people was covering behind. One man came out, roaring and swinging his sword. He cut into the men around him, blood spraying his black leathers. Then a bullet fired, hitting him in the shoulder. He jerked and kept swinging, taking another man down. Another shot and he was hit in the stomach. He cried out and gritted his teeth, struggling forward. Then two more bullets, three. His body rocked with the impact and he fell forward onto his knees    
'Yoren!' Arya screamed, breaking her concentration. As Yoren fell face first onto the rough, wooden dock, Arya's opponent took advantage of her distraction. She darted forward, slamming first one knife, then the other, hard into her body.   
Arya grunted at the impact, ripping her focus back and looking down at her stomach with sick surprise.   
   
‘ARYA!’ Jon cried, putting on a fresh burst of speed, sword raised. The woman spun at his words, ripping her knives from Arya’s stomach. He eyes widened at the sight of Jon, Gendry and Ghost bearing down on her, blood coating all three of them. She glanced back at the fighting behind her and turned, sprinting into the fray.  
Jon skidded to a halt beside his sister, falling to his knees. She was lying on the docks, covering her stomach. Blood, thick and red, was pulsing out from between her fingers and her eyes were wide and scared. She focussed on him.  
‘I fucked up, J,’ she rasped.  
‘Hush,’ he said, desperately, reaching down to put a hand on her wounds. ‘You’ll be fine.’  
Gendry dropped to her knees beside him, staring at Arya with horror.  
‘She needs a hospital. Right now.’  
Jon shook his head, desperately, ‘Can’t. Hospitals aren’t safe for us down here. There’s report warrants that go straight to the local gangs on all of us ... we have medics back at the warehouse ...' But Jon despaired as he said it, looking down at his sister's wounds. She was far beyond what their travelling medics could look after.  
Arya pawed weakly at his arm with a blood covered hand. ‘Fake ID … in my bag,’ she rasped. ‘Gendry can take me in … never know I'm gang.' Her hand dropped and she started panting shallowly.  
Gendry looked at Jon, then Arya and then leaned forward to pick her up, standing easily. She kept one hand pushed hard against her stomach, closing her eyes against the pain.  
Jon couldn’t think what else to do, so he followed, as they darted back in amongst the rows of containers, making their way back to the bikes.

Jon looked back over his shoulder as they were leaving. He scanned desperately for Robb, then saw him in the centre of the fighting, backed up against the unloaded containers, surrounded by a small group of the Direwolves. There were Debt Collectors all around him, but coming from the far side of the cargo drop was Bolton and about fifteen of his Dread Riders. They cut their way through the red leathered Debt Collectors to reach Robb.   
Jon’s tension eased slightly. Robb would be okay, the tide of the fight was turning, there was more black than red standing around the docks. It would be okay for him to go.   
Just as he was about to turn away and hurry after Gendry, rapid movement caught the corner of his eye. He turned back to Robb to see Roose Bolton lean in close to Robb's ear. At the same time two of his men stepped up behind Robb, grabbing his arms and pulling them back sharply. Jon stopped dead, confused, then cried out in horror as he saw Bolton raise his arm, steel glinting, then slam a knife down into Robb's chest.   
All around, Bolton's men were turning on Robb's, cutting them down from behind.   
'ROBB!' he screamed, watching his brother fall to his knees, one hand clutching his chest. One of the Dread Riders stepped up behind him, swinging a huge blade in a massive ark. Jon felt himself go numb and the world go soundless as his brother's head was severed from his body, landing several metres away. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. This couldn't be Robb. This couldn't be happening. 

He didn't realise he was screaming, his voice raw with anguish until Gendry came back to him, pulling him roughly away from the sight of his brother's body.  
'Jon,' Gendry was saying to him urgently, then rougher. 'Jon, what's going on?'  
'My brother ...' Jon said, looking around again. All across the battle, Dread Riders and Krakens were turning against the men and women they'd been fighting shoulder to shoulder with. Now they stood with Debt Collectors. The change caught many by surprise and they were cut down before they realised the danger. Jon could see the ripple of despair travelling the battlefield as riders realised Robb had been lost.  
He glanced back at Arya, lying pale and unresponsive in Gendry's arms, then back out at the battle, torn, nothing making sense. Gendry saw his indecision and seemed to understand the tide of the battle was turning.  
'Go,' he said. 'I'll keep Arry safe. GO!'  
Jon glanced at them both one last time then turned, striding back out into the open. The cold pit of his loss ignited within him as he looked across the field of battle. A fire of rage and vengeance roared to life.  
'TO ME,' he shouted, thrusting his sword into the air. 'THE NORTH, TO ME!'  
Some of the riders closest to him looked around and the cry was taken up, new fire coming into those who remained true. Jon strode forward, killing in a cold, deadly rage, Ghost at his side, a lethal fury of fur and fangs. 

With a group of Direwolves around him they broke into a nest of Krakens, cutting them down one by one until only one man remained, crouching on the docks.  
Jon gritted his teeth, staring down at Theon cowering before him. It took everything he had to push his rage aside - to push his need to kill aside.  
'Did you know about this?' he demanded, his entire body making it clear he better get an answer right now.  
Theon shook his head, hands up. 'I didn't Jon. I swear I didn't. They don't - they didn't tell me anything much. They didn't want me,' his face was dazed, hollow as he looked at the dead Krakens all around him and then past Jon to where Robb's body lay fallen.  
It was the look of loss on his face as he looked out at Robb that paused Jon's hand, kept him in check just a little longer.  
'You choose right now, Theon. Once and for all. Are you a Squid or are you a Wolf?' Jon's face was cold. The need to kill, to take vengeance to the rest of his enemies was strong in him.  
Theon looked up at him, eyes wide. He looked around at the men lying fallen around him, then he began to rise, pushing himself to his feet so that he stood, facing Jon, looking him in the eyes.  
'I'm a Wolf,' he said, his voice quiet. Then stronger, louder, 'I always wanted to be a Wolf.' Jon searched his face, seeing certainty and the beginning of strength where before there had been none. He gave the other man a vicious grin that was full of death and pain.  
'Then help me avenge our brother,' he said, as he turned back to the battle. 

His people were rallying strongly, pushing back against the Debt Collectors. Direwolves, Chaingangs and Equitem Ursi fighting viciously against Dread Riders and Krakens as well as their red-clad enemies. The surprise of the change in allegiance and the devastating loss of their leader was fading. As with Jon, rage and vengeance had become the strongest emotions. His people cut down their enemies without mercy or hesitation. The battle flowed back and forth. Jon cut down enemy after enemy until he was coated in sticky blood and his arm ached. He pushed from fight to fight, rallying his people as he moved. 

Finally, through the haze of battle he heard the rumble of a motorbike engine. He ripped his head up, looking around to see Cersei at last. She was mounted on her bike, untouched by the vicious fight, pulling away from the docks. Her massive bodyguard, the Mountain crouched on the wide back of the three wheeler behind her. Jon roared in rage at the sight of her, running forward, reaching for his gun. With a curse, he realised it was gone. Emptied earlier. Somewhere else on the field, a shot rang out at the departing bike, going wide. Then another and another. One thudded into the Mountain's back, but the huge man barely moved. Then the bike was out of sight, disappearing between the containers. Jon screamed with rage, hacking into the enemies still around him.  
Another few bikes started. Jon didn't even know where they had come from. He saw Jaime Lannister's blonde head and grabbed a gun from a body lying near him. Empty. He grabbed another, squeezing the trigger at the departing figure. His first few shots went wide, the riders scattering, then he focussed in on Jaime, squeezing the trigger just as he disappeared into the containers. A spray of bullets ran up his right arm, one shattering his hand and spraying blood up into the air. He was lost from sight a moment later. 

Jon growled, looking around the docks. With the departure of their leaders and the ferocity of the fighting, the rest of the riders were losing heart. A few had thrown down weapons, only to be cut down immediately after. The rest broke and fled, Jon's riders giving chase. 

Just like that, the battle was over. Jon lowered his sword, looking around, dazed, at the carnage that was spread across the docks. He made his way slowly through the destruction, breathing harshly as he started to come down from the adrenaline and reality started to sink in. He made his way over to the central containers, noting absently that Brienne was already unlocking them to let the terrified women out. He made his way to Robb's lifeless body. He paused for a moment, and his hands trembled as he reached down to pick his head up from the ground, cradling it gently in his hands. He fell to his knees in front of his brother, rolling his body onto his back and placing his head gently down. He looked down at him, hollow eyed and horrified. Something inside him broke as he looked down at his brother and he leaned forward, clenching his fists in Robb's leathers. He bent his head down to Robb's chest and cried out a long, anguished howl of loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited battle ... sorry if I got anyone in the feels 
> 
> Shout out to @theonsfavouritetoy - because of you my Theon got a chance at redemption. 
> 
> Cersei's bike: https://goo.gl/images/ht9bKh


	16. Chapter 16

**Gendry**

The next few hours passed in a blur. Every step away from Jon felt wrong. He wanted to be there with him. The blood, the brutality he’d just seen … had just participated in … rocked through him. His mind was a whirl of screams and blades. He looked down at the unconscious woman in his arms as he ran. He focussed on Arya’s face and pushed thoughts of what was behind him from his mind. Jon would be fine - he had to be. His people would protect him … _Gods, his brother_.

When he got back to the huge group of bikes he scanned wildly for Arya’s, finally spotting the hot red Y2K off to one side. Clutching her still body to him with one arm, he emptied her bags with the other, finding a wallet in a side pocket. He flipped it open. A driver’s licence with a picture of Arya’s face and the name Cat Tully stared up at him. He shoved it in his pocket and ran for his bike. He settled Arya across his thighs and held her upright with one arm. Her lack of movement was really scaring him. She didn’t seem to be bleeding as heavily any more, but her body was floppy in his arms. He held her to him tighter and started his bike up with a roar. 

He’d been to the Landing a dozen times, so he made straight for the nearest hospital he knew. He pulled his bike into an alley a block back, behind a dumpster, then laid Arya gently on the seat. He grabbed his water bottle and a rag and wiped his face quickly clean. He didn’t worry about the blood all over his hands and shirt. That could be explained. He turned to Arya and took a deep breath, then unzipped her leather jacket, pulling it open and levering it gently off her arms. Immediately the blood began flowing from her stomach wounds again.  
‘Fuck fuck fuck,’ Gendry muttered, working faster. He threw the bloody jacket into the dumpster and gave her a quick look over. Jeans, black singlet and riding boots - those couldn’t be helped. He hoped to god she didn’t have a bloody great wolf tattooed across her body as well and picked her up, running around the side of the hospital to the emergency doors.

He ran straight up to the triage desk, ‘We need help!’ he said, urgently, but quietly. ‘My girlfriend’s been stabbed. In the stomach. She’s bleeding a lot.’ The nurse looked over them quickly then immediately spoke into the phone at her desk and came around the corner. Within moments, a team of doctors and nurses had arrived, Arya was laid out on a gurney and wheeled away.

Gendry stood, arms vacant, watching her go, and he felt light headed all of a sudden. He sat down on a chair nearby and put his head in his hands, heedless of the blood on himself. A while later - he didn’t know how long - a nurse came up to him.  
‘She’s in theatre now,’ the woman said. ‘You won’t hear anything for a few hours. Would you like to get cleaned up?’ Gendry looked up at her, and then nodded tiredly, following her to a small toilet cubicle that held a shower. The woman grabbed a towel and a pair of scrubs from a trolley nearby and handed them to him with a kind smile.

It wasn’t until he was in the shower, water pouring over him, that he started to shake. The fear, shock and adrenaline come down caught up with him and he couldn’t stop shaking. He wanted Jon all of a sudden. He wanted to be able to lean into him and breathe him in and have him say that everything would be okay. Jon had to be alright. He _had_ to. Gendry forced himself to take deep, calming breaths, then finished his shower quickly, scrubbing the blood off his skin. He dressed in the scrubs, grabbed his phone and the two wallets then dumped his clothes in a bin in the corner.

Back in the waiting room, the nurse smiled again, and the came to sit with him, handing him a pile of forms.  
‘I’m going to need you to fill these out, love,’ she said gently. ‘Just ask me if there’s anything you don’t understand. Also, someone will be around later - once your girlfriend is out of surgery - to ask you what happened, okay?’  
Gendry nodded, looking down at the forms. He opened Arya’s - Cat’s - wallet and then flipped through the cards, hoping her credit was good, before he started filing them in. At least it was something to take his mind off her. Off how the surgery was going. Off Jon. Off why he hadn’t called.

When he was done he lay his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He was so tired, but felt strung out and on edge. His phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him. He reached for it: Jon.  
‘Thank god,’ he answered.  
‘How is she?’ Jon’s voice demanded.  
‘She’s in surgery. I don’t - they said it would be a while.’  
‘Where are you?’  
‘Maegyr’s Rest Hospital. It’s off the Street of Sisters.’  
‘I’ll be there soon,’ he said, then he hung up.  
Gendry sat, staring at the phone in his hands. Then he stood up and went outside to wait.

When Jon rode past, Gendry flagged him to the alley. He’d cleaned up marginally, and Gendry was relieved to see he seemed unharmed. He went to stride past into the hospital, but Gendry stopped him, with a hand on his arm.  
‘Jon - you can’t,’ he said gently. Jon looked at him, blank faced.  
‘If it’s important to protect her identity - you can’t go in there … not looking like that.’ Jon paused, looking down at himself, blood-spattered leather pants, thick steel capped boots, dry-blood streaked leather jacket with the Direwolf symbol standing proudly on its back. Then he looked at Gendry and his eyes were haunted and hollow.  
‘I have to see her,’ he whispered. ‘I have to make sure she’s okay.’  
‘She will be,’ Gendry reassured him, still holding his arm. ‘If there’s one thing your sister is, it’s a fighter. You know that.’  
Jon paused, looking down and took a deep, shuddering breath. Gendry moved in closer, opening his arms and Jon stepped into them, bending his face into Gendry’s neck, wrapping his arms around his waist. Gendry held him, tight, wishing he could make everything ok.  
‘I can’t lose her too,’ Jon said into his neck and his voice wavered on the words. Gendry hugged him tighter.  
‘You won’t,’ he promised. ‘You won’t.’

Finally they separated. ‘I should go back inside,’ Gendry said. ‘I’ll call you the moment I hear anything.’  
Jon nodded. ‘I should - there are so many things that need to be done. Things my brother -‘ his voice cut off and his face spasmed with pain again.  
Gendry wished there was something he could do to help ease it. ‘Oh Jon, I'm so sorry. Once she’s out - tonight - come presentable and I’ll make up a story about how you’re a friend from the Landing.’  
Jon nodded, taking a deep breath and steadying himself. He looked Gendry in the eyes, and his own were wet, ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘For everything.’  
Gendry leaned forward, placing a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Then he cupped the side of his face. ‘I said I’d come back for you and I have. I’ll call you the moment I hear.’ Then he turned and left the alley.

———

It was another few hours before the doctor approached.  
‘Mr Waters,’ he said, a smile on his face. Gendry felt his spirits lifting and he stood up. ‘Ms Tully has come out of surgery. We’ve repaired the damage to her organs and she’s stable. She’s going to be sore and she’s got a lot of stitches, but she’ll be fine … does she have family nearby?’ he asked, looking around.  
Gendry felt weak at the knees and he sagged back into his chair with relief. It took him a moment to register the doctors words.  
‘Family? No, she’s from up North. She was staying with me for a few weeks. I’ve called her family. They’re on their way down though.’  
The doctor nodded, ‘Right. She’s in recovery at the moment, but in an hour or so you should be okay to see her.’  
Gendry nodded, his heart beating hard, still sitting.  
‘Thank you,’ he managed. ‘That’s great news. Thank you.’

He walked outside and called Jon. He picked up on the second ring.  
‘She’s fine,’ Gendry blurted. ‘She’s out of surgery and she’s fine.’  
He could hear Jon’s exhale of relief on the other end of the line.  
‘See you soon?’ he asked.  
‘Definitely.’

——

This time, when Jon walked in the door, he was dressed in clean jeans and a t-shirt and he looked like he’d showered recently. They made their way to Arya’s ward, the nurses not bothered by the additional visitor. They paused for a moment to look in the window at her. She was in a single room, looking small and delicate in the large hospital bed. She had tubes coming out of one arm and monitors hooked up to her chest, but she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Jon sagged against Gendry for a moment, breath hitching in his throat. Gendry gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. Then he straightened back up and entered the room. Jon took the seat beside Arya’s bedside and took up her free hand. He lifted it to his mouth for a gentle kiss and then laid it back on the bed, holding it.  
Gendry stood beside him, his leg a warm pressure against Jon’s thigh.  
‘You crazy girl,’ Jon murmured to his sister. ‘You’re good, but even you should know there’s always someone better …’  
’S no one better’n me,’ Arya slurred, opening her eyes a crack. ‘Jus’ got distracted ’s all.’  
Jon huffed a surprised laugh and laid his forehead onto his sister’s hand. She patted him gently, looking up at Gendry.  
‘You came back,’ she said with a small grin. ’S good. Don’ need t’ kill you now.’ Jon lifted his head back up to stare at her and she dipped one eye into a small wink. Then she lay her head back onto the pillow and closed her eyes with a sigh. ‘Tired,’ she whispered. ‘Battle?’  
‘We won,’ Jon said, his face suddenly a mask of pain again. ‘Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll tell you when you’re feeling better.’  
Arya nodded slightly, eyes still closed, and soon her breathing evened out and she slept.


End file.
